


On Orion's Belt

by eurosthewanderer



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Gaila (Star Trek: Alternate Original Series), F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Oblivious James T. Kirk, Only for chap 6 though, Orion Slave Girls, Orion Syndicate, Orion religion, Orion!James T. Kirk, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, gone wrong, orion culture, why is that not a tag?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:14:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurosthewanderer/pseuds/eurosthewanderer
Summary: Four years after the destruction of Vulcan the USS Enterprise comes across an Orion ship attempting to escape Federation space. With the discovery of her Vulcan occupants, Jim Kirk, the Enterprises' half Orion Captain is thrown into a whirlwind of parenthood while racing to uncover a sinister plot that may affect the entire future of the Vulcan race.Four years after the destruction of Vulcan the USS Enterprise rescues the son of a childhood rival of Commander Spock's. With the Captain enamored with the child and the Enterprise growing closer to New Vulcan, Spock's entire future is thrown into disarray.





	1. Tahedri’s asshole

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I'm just cleaning out old fiction from a USB. Hopefully I get around to continuing it as I actually have an outline written up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

Jim’s back ached and his legs were throbbing. He was sitting, with a bleeding scalp, in a filthy ship hold. Orion by the smell of the pockets pheromones and terror that spattered the cell. Jim flexed his toes and wriggled his fingers, feeling for any broken bones. There were at least three. Slowly he tried to get to his feet only to be jerked back to the ground by the chain around his neck. Jim swore shaking his head back and forth, trying to clear his mind. He probably had a concussion. He groped around to grab the collar cursing the filthy ship to the depths of their tahedri’s asshole. The ridge of the lock was lifted slightly off the rest of the metal but it was hollow on the inside. A cakti lock, the green skinned half-blood realised. He grinned through his split lip. He knew these locks all too well.

Jim unhooked the sharp pin he always kept in his undershirt and jammed it into the lock. The lock clicked off after barely three seconds and Jim sprung up. He limped over to the electric bars. Across from the little cage there were boxes stamped with Mokangin-the High Kolari word for armor-and the seal of the Syndicate. Wonderful for Jim. But why?

Jim slipped forward and poked a bar with his pinky finger. Yeah, it was electric but just as he expected, it was not charged enough for a species that could take stun blasts to the gut.  Jim bit down on the collar of his uniform before he shoved his hand through the bars and clicked the emergency override on the touchpad. Then, quick as a flash, he bounded across the hall to pop open one of the crates. It contained metallic blast-vests, under armor, boots, knee and arm pads along with helmets and gloves that had metal casing over the knuckles. If he opened any of the other boxes he’d probably find electric whips and batons along with stun gas or night vision goggles, Jim thought. He tugged on a blast vest over his black undershirt and exchanged his starfleet issued his pants and boots for the gear in the crate. When he did pop open another crate he found Romulan style rifles and Hgah-890 phasers in place of the expected whips. He grabbed one of the phasers. It was like this ship was going to war not running an exploratory mission, Jim thought, or, well, _their_ version of one.    

Jim turned to walk down the hallway toward what he assumed was the ship’s mess but when he pushed to door open it turned out to be a more formal, decorated, smaller eating area. The officer’s mess, Jim realized as he felt his blood run cold. They didn’t have those on privateers ships or freelancers

“Aye.” One of the two Orions in the hall called out. “You sampled the new boy yet?”

Jim, momentarily grateful for having contracted lice on Xexenis four, smirked.

“Yes,” He said, feeling like he was about to vomit. “He’s a fighter.”

“Wait, you aren’t suppose..” The other, larger Orion said but was cut off by a bang as the ship rocked wildly from side to side, sending all three males sprawling on the floor. Jim choked back a yelp, feeling one of his ribs crack as he went slamming into a table.

“What in the name of Hagga’s tits?” One of the other two male’s shouted. Jim got to his feet and looked at the two. They both wore no jewelry nor headbands, which again, made Jim think that this was far more than the privateer vessel he’d initially assumed.

“Starfleet,” Jim hollered back. “Let’s get to the guns!”

The two men took off toward the elevator, with Jim hot on their heels as the emergency siren began to wail. The heavy male, as he’d expected, was the slower runner and just as they entered the elevator Jim shot the male in the back of the skull. His skull exploded, sending bone and grey matter all over the elevator, and Jim gunned down the other male.  Jim stepped over the bodies and then vomited all over the floor of the lift.

“Oh my god,” he muttered as he braced himself against the wall to try and calm his thundering his heart. Another blast rocked the ship and sent Jim into the opposing wall. His left arm gave a sickening snap when he slammed into it. Jim’s scream echoed of the wall. He doubled over, taking deep breaths as he adjusted to the pain.   

Fuck, he thought, where do I go from here?

Standing in an elevator with two corpses and breathing in the fumes of his own vomit, Jim racked his brains for an answer. This ship was big, he already knew that. It looked like a contracted explorer or privateer ship but the men were _fucking syndicate soldiers_. If the ship was just a standard explorer that had been modified then engine room would be on the fifth level. Jim reached over and typed it into the control. But if it wasn’t...

“What the fuck is going on?” He wondered, out loud, cocking his phaser. An actual Orion battleship taking slaves in Federation Space? What idiot wanted to start a war and get himself executed?

The lift door slid open the third level and the answer become readily apparent. Two bulky guards froze and stared at the sight in front of their eyes. Jim felt pure rage boil up into his chest as he shot the two males. He wasn’t sure if his anger came before, after or sometime during that moment.  

Being dragged between them was a very small, wheezing, badly beaten Vulcan child. The kan'bu collapsed onto the ground without a sound between next to his captor’s corpse.

One of the idiots had decided not to _fucking_ die under Jim’s phaser and charged the smaller male. Jim shot him in the nuts. When he went down screaming he shot him in the head, sending more brain and skull all over the lift floor. Jim stepped out toward the little boy. The kanbu was probably heading to the incinerator given how bad his breathing sounded. Someone had decided he would make a good example.

Jim knelt down and gently brushed the little toddler’s hair from his forehead. He had chubby cheeks that were bruised nearly black and one eye swollen shut. The one open eye stared up at Jim in terror. The ship rocked again and the lights went out in the hallway. Thank god, Jim thought. They were going to be safe. Well, almost all of them.

“Greetings, small one.” Jim said in Vulcan as his eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. The boy’s little hand shot out to grab Jim and he nearly doubled over, sobbing from the child’s pain. He pulled the little boy into his arms. “It’s going to be alright.” He cradled the boys head in his hands as the whizzing sound of a transporter filled the room.

“Look, we’re going to be alright, Soren,” He murmured and pointed. Then he looked up to be struck by a phaser beam.

 

* * *

When Jim awoke, the first thing he noticed was that his head was pounding incredibly violently. The second thing he realized was that it was no longer dark. He sat up, looking around wildly, seeing only white. The white walls of MedBay. 

“Oh, fuck!” He bellowed, scrambling to try and get out of bed. He managed to pitch himself over the side but his legs failed him and he ended up collapsed on the ground. Jim's head swam and his vision blurred but he had to get up. Soren was gone. Soren could be dead or in pain or scared. 

“Captain?” A familiar voice called out from doorway, sounding nothing short of panicked.

“Spock?!” Jim choked out. “My god, Spock?”

The half Vulcan rushed over and knelt by Jim, gently lifting him up in his arms as if he were a baby and laying him back down in the bed. Spock pulled the covers over his body, petting his flank like he was a startled makank. There was a shout in the doorway and he could hear Bones rushing over.

“Where’s Soren?” Jim asked before blacking out.

* * *

 

“Damn it!” Dr. McCoy shouted, racing to the Captain’s bedside, beads and rattles in hand. “Spock what did he say?”

“He asked after a person named Soren.” The half-Vulcan responded, heart hammering in his side. He raised his hand to run his fingertips along Jim’s bright green, freckled forearm, wondering when the was the last time he’d seen his Captain’s wrists bare. It was something that only happened when he was dressed in medicinal clothes. And this time the injury was caused by Spock.

“You think it was the little boy?” Dr.McCoy asked, scanning Jim’s body.

“It is likely.” Spock responded. The boy, little more than a kan-bu, had been beaten so badly that he was likely less than an hour from death when Spock had beamed into that ship’s cargo hold. Spock had seen a hulking Orion bent over him, ready to inflict a death blow and he’d done the logical thing; He’d shot to kill. But the man had not been hulking, he was actually quite trim, and he had not been about to kill the child. It had been Jim.

“He’s still in surgery, you know.” Dr. McCoy said and Spock ignored him. “Some of the other Vulcan’s said his mother was killed.”

Spock trailed his fingers up to Jim’s defined bicep, swirling the Orions name onto his arm in Jim’s native language. Ur’eon script was beautiful, calligraphic language, if very different from his own native writings. _Jyman_ , he write into the Captain’s skin, _Jyman_.

“Will he live?” Spock asked.

“Yeah,” Dr. McCoy said. “Now we’ve got him in the operating room, he’ll be fine. Chapel will have him patched up in no time.”

Spock looked at the Doctor, confused, before he realised that the Doctor was talking about the boy. Soren, Jim had called him.

“I refer to the Captain, Doctor.”

“Of course you do.” Dr. McCoy snorted. “He’ll be back on the bridge in no time. Get some rest, man.”

“Vulcans need 65.4% less sleep than humans.” Spock responded, eyes returning to Jim.

The Doctor left, shaking his head and muttering about “stubborn green skinned fools.” Spock ignored him and pulled one of two chairs closer to the bed, keeping a hand on Jim’s bicep. Spock sat down and continued to stroke his fingers along Jim’s arm. It was a miracle that Jim was even lying in bed. Spock had almost killed his ashayam. He had looked up, changed his dial from stun to kill and shot his t'hy'la. Spock had not seen Jim. Jim, _Jim,_ who he should have known by sight, by scent alone.   

 _T’Jys,_ Spock spelled onto Jim’s arm, _T’Jys._


	2. Sa-mek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan:  
> pi’sa-kan (pi is little and sa-kan is boy)  
> tela’at (Elder-formal greeting)  
> T’sai (Lady-formal greeting)  
> Kabal (Orion goddess of death; commonly used swear word)  
> Puna-shau/Nashaut-(Hello: I am using these as the word "Hello" in two different dialects."  
> Orion:  
> zkhaz(son)  
> So I have chap 3 and 4 just needing edits but I'm gonna try and go on a weekly schedule after this or at the very least wait till I've finished chap 5 and 6 before adding more. Enjoy!  
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

The sa-kan- _Soren_ -was dwarfed by even the smallest medical garment. Standing on the side of the little boy’s bed, Spock thought Soren was small enough to be swaddled. Soren was asleep, the monitors above his bed beeping silently while Spock stood alongside him, hands behind his back.

It had been two days since the sa-kan had had surgery and Spock had barely slept. He had sat up all night with Jim who spent his time begging for information on the kan’bu. Jim had called the nurses station while Spock and he had been playing chess but no one had responded. Jim would have gone himself, breaking his mandated bedrest, if Spock had not volunteered.   

Spock, having spent 10.8 minutes in Soren’s room, took a moment to memorize the boy’s vital readings before he left the room. But as he approached the door he heard a loud beep. Spock turned back around to see Soren sitting up in his bed, rubbing a chubby fist under his button nose. Spock froze, shocked. The little boy had small black eyes, a small but pointed chin, thin lips and fat cheeks that would not fade until he reached adulthood.

“Hmmm.” The pi’sa-kan  groaned and then chirped,  

Spock walked back to the bed in horror, torn between fear and paternal instinct. The little boy had a bruise over one of his eyes and Spock could see that the point of his left ear had been cut off. The pi’sa-kan sneezed then went still when he saw Spock. Spock himself took two steps closer to the bedl, unable to under Soren’s gaze.

“Where’s Jim, tela’at?” The little boy asked. “Do you know Jim, tela’at?”

“Greetings, small one.” Spock forced himself to say. “I am Spock. May I have thy name?”

“Soren.” Soren said. “Well met, tela’at. Where’s Jim? Can I see Jim?”

Spock looked at the little boy, looked at his vitals and looked over his shoulder at the unmoving door to Soren’s room. He looked back at Soren. The pi’sa-kan was tugging on his hair, pulling it down his forehead so that his chin length hair was given the appearance of Surak. Spock felt his stomach turn and bile rise into his throat. Spock looked at the little boys vitals again.

* * *

Jim was glaring at his pad. Of the sixty-five Vulcans, forty-five were were children and the rest were female. Only five of the women had a child on that ship but four of those five women and eight of the childless women were pregnant.

_Every woman and thirty of the children were sexually assaulted while being unlawfully transported by the crew of the Harrad._

Jim wondered if Spock had written that. Or M’Benga. Or someone not Bones. Jim remembered the morning after he’d gotten blackout drunk and he’d woken up to see Bones sitting with his head in his hands. When the doctor had looked up Jim had seen how puffy Bones’ eyes were and then Jim had barfed on him. It had been the only time Jim had ever blacked out or barfed from drinking but he’d been fine, blame it on the Orion constitution. Bones’ had been a wreck for nearly a month until he’d worked up enough courage to say something to Jim.

_It is estimated that the woman and children were individually held captive somewhere between thirty and forty-five days. The sixty-five Vulcans were captured in or around the Talkan region (Yesnos 456 in Gamma 648) when their transports (the Torupik zul kunel-a T’Plana-Hath type Starship-and the Raf-Glayek-a D’Vahl type cruiser) were attacked. According to the flight logs submitted before departure from Dagobah port on Yavin IV, the Torupik zul kunel had thirty-two females, twenty males and seventeen minors for passengers while the Raf-Glayek had twenty-six females, forty-nine males and thirty-six minors. The following documents contain the full passenger and crew list of both ships._

Jim read through the names, seeing three generations and newly weds amongst the passengers. There had been two babies on the Raf-Glayek and five children under the age of two on the Torupik zul kunel, all male. Jim didn’t have to wonder what had happened to them or their fathers and grandfathers, he knew well enough. But as Jim read through the documents a number caught his eye. In a pre-boarding report, Vessem, the Captain of the Raf-Glayek had stated that one hundred and twelve individuals were supposed to boarding his and one hundred and twelve people did go through customs. But only one hundred and eleven crew and passengers were listed as being aboard the Raf-Glayek in Vessem’s pre-departure log.

Jim was scrolling back through the crew logs when the door to his room slid open to reveal a Vulcan. But it wasn’t Spock. Jim sat up in his bed, staring at the woman standing there. She was short and chubby with dark hair twisted into a braid that had been slung over her shoulder.

“Hello.” Jim said. “Can I help you?”

“I was told _you_ were kept in the brig.” The woman said, the skin around her eyes tight with rage.

“The slavers are in the brig, T’sai.” Jim responded. “I’m Starfleet.”

The woman stared at him for another moment and then walked away, her face paler than a hotel sheet. Jim wanted to get up and go after her but he knew better. He wouldn’t have taken it well if  an Orion man chased after him right after he and Gaila had escaped. Kabal, Jim still wouldn’t have liked it.

Jim snuggled himself back down into his blankets, tucking the scratchy fabric up under his chin. His pad dinged with a new message. I was laying over his thighs and when he lifted them up it tumbled onto Jim’s chest. Jim wiggled and fanangled his arm out from the side of his bed to grab it. The message was from Gaila. Just as Jim unlocked his pad, the door to his room slid back open. This time it was Spock standing there with a large bundle of blankets in his arms.

A bundle of blankets with a dark head of hair and a pointed ear.

“Soren!” Jim said as his face cracked open into a massive smile. The little boy whipped his head around to look at Jim with wide happy eyes. “Puna-shau.”

“Jim!” Soren shouted. “Nashaut!”

Spock hurried to the bed and deposited a squirming Soren onto Jim’s legs. Soren scooted onto Jim’s chest, grabbed onto Jim’s shirt with his tiny fist and stuck his nose into Jim’s collarbone. Jim wrapped his arms around Soren and he imagined he could sense the relief radiating off the little Vulcan as well as he could smell it.

Jim cradled Soren, rubbing his back for a few moments with his nose in his zkhaz’s hair. The little boy lifted one hand from Jim’s shirt and put it up onto the side of Jim’s face. Jim heard Spock’s sharp intake of breath but he simply propped Soren higher up onto his chest.

“Are you doing ok?” Jim asked Soren. Soren nodded his head into Jim’s neck. “Do they have you on solid food yet?”

“Yes.” Soren muttered. “I had plomeek soup this morning.”

“Oh really?” Jim asked. “Did Spock tell you that that’s his favorite food?”

Spock had sat down beside the bed. His back was hunched over but his shoulders were still square. Spock’s face had always been thin and all the more drawn more recently but Jim thought he looked exhausted. Spock’s eyes had been on his shoes but when Jim said his name, the half-Vulcan’s eyes snapped back up to look at them.

“No.” Soren said. “What kind of plomeek do you like, tela’at?”

“My mother mixed lentils and onions into soup.” Spock said. “I preferred it to any other variant.”

“Lentils?” Soren asked, looking at Jim. “Jim, what are lentils?”

Jim watched as Spock tensed in his seat. Spock’s face barely changed at all but Jim could read the anger in his eyes and the twitch of his rosebud mouth.

“A human vegetable.” Jim told Soren. “It’s green like my skin but a bit darker.”

“So they look like Orions?” Soren asked and then turned his head to look at Spock. “Why would you want to eat an Orion?”

Jim couldn’t help it, he laughed. Spock’s eyes darkened even further and Jim’s padd dinged again.

  



	3. T'sai T'Pra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kp-his  
> hzak-son  
> Gulhen-hello  
> Zlu-what/how  
> Glogl-emotions  
> Hut-can/could  
> Glet-give  
> Yo-you to me  
> Loki-thank  
> Y-it  
> tyt-anus  
> pyank- ceremonial gift indicating the receiver is now a graft member of the giver's tree  
> p-possession/ownership (ex: kpyekp holgaz-his wife's holgaz)  
> holgaz-an Orion sauce  
> mtGulhensat-my name is  
> Vulcan:  
> Kup ozhika.-(I am logical)  
> Du dahkuh nam-tor.-(you two are.)  
> Ha-yes  
> Tu dahkuh nam-tor-you two are  
> Nirsh-greetings  
> Saven-tor vu-I taught myself  
> T’nash-ve ahmau-my name is  
> Puna-shau-greetings  
> Kanu-children
> 
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

“So what’s with this kid and Jim?” Dr. McCoy dropped his breakfast on the table across from Spock.

“Good morning to you as well, Doctor.” Spock responded, stirring his fork through his fruit bowl. Spock took a drink of his tea, enjoying the smoky taste as it heated his tongue.  

“Soren says Jim’s his dad now.”

Spock did not spit his tea all over the table but it was a near thing. Spock struggled to suppress his gag reflex but Dr. McCoy did not seem to notice. He simply drank his coffee.

“Explain.” Spock said. “Explain now.”

“Soren said that Jim’s his dad now.” Dr. McCoy started cutting into his omelet. “There’s some kind o’ bond or something. M’Benga’s looking at Soren right now.”

“Soren believes he formed a parental bond with the Captain?” Spock asked. He heard his heart start to thunder in his side. It was unlikely but not impossible, Spock acknowledged. Ka’diith. But it was illogical, Jyman was not Soren’s father. T’Jys was not Sofek’s mate.

“Impossible.” Spock responded. “There is minimal chance that Soren formed a parental bond with a psi-null individual.”

“Jim’s not psi-null.”

Spock stared at the Dr. McCoy with his mouth held open. Logically, Spock should have felt some kind of relief but it took all of his focus to curtail his rage. He required meditation.

“Good morning, Doctor.” Spock said as he stood up, picked up his food tray and walked away.

* * *

Gaila was in a grease covered jumpsuit when she walked into Jim’s room. Her wild red hair was scraped back and sprayed down into a high bun and the bags under her eyes that spoke of overtime. She was carrying two trays full of foot and rags hanging out of each of her pocket.

“Gulhen.” Jim said. “Zlu glogle?”

“Fuck you.” Gaila said back as she handed him his tray. She sat down in the chair by his bed. “You need to fuck Spock.”

“Zlu?!” Jim asked, grateful that he hadn’t started eating yet. The last time Gaila had dumped something like that on him he’d had a piece of apple lodged in his nasal cavity for a good five hours. “What? Have you lost your mind?”

“Think about it,” Gaila said. “Sex, Spock’s less pissy and you get to keep the your kid.”

“I do not have a kid.” Jim glared at her.   

“Really?” Gaila responded. “Because I ran into a baby Vulcan who thinks your his dad.”

“Soren’s adorable.” Jim responded, mood instantly lifting.

“Leo says he “cute as a button”.” Gaila responded. “Chapel says he Satan.”

Jim chuckled and shook his head. He picked up his fork and dug into his eggs. They were the plain, replicated, terran eggs that made Jim gag.

“Do you have holgaz?” Jim asked.

“Yep.” Gaila said after swallowing her food.

“Hut yoglety?” Jim responded. She handed it to him and watched him pour the sauce out over his eggs. “Lokiek.”

Jim and Gaila finished their meals in silence. Jim enjoyed the burn of the holgaz down his throat. It was better than Scotty’s whiskey or coffee for warming his insides. He ate slowly, enjoying the singing on his tongue and the watering of his eyes.  Gaila, on the other hand, ate quickly, almost scarfing her food down in front of him. It was normally the opposite.

“Has Spock snapped at someone on the bridge?” Jim asked, putting his fork onto his empty plate.

“Nope.” Gaila said. “But M’Ress could smell how pissed he was from her station.”

“C’est terrible.” Jim responded.

“Nyota’s gotten through your thick skull I see.”

“Yep.” Jim responded, leered jokingly and then took a sip of his coffee. “Have you gotten through hers yet?”

“We’re getting married after the tour, you tyt.”

“I know.” Jim responded. “How’re her translations coming along? Your comm said you’d cracked the code?”

“Jim,” Gaila said. “They had someone on those ships.”

“Shit.” Jim said. “They were using a homing device weren’t they?”

* * *

 Jim sat outside of M’Benga’s office, drinking a cup of coffee and watching nurses and doctors bustle by. Soren was inside with M’Benga and Dr. Dehner, the Chief Psychologist. Jim had never actually met Dehner before but recognized her immediately as the woman Cupcake couldn’t shut up about. She was a tall, severe blond in her late thirties that had merely nodded to him before entering M’Benga’s office.

Jim could sense Soren well enough. The little boy was calm and drinking something warm, or rather Jim imagined he was. But Jim was still worried. Soren was a toddler in a room with two Doctors. Who were members of Jim’s crew. Who had passed all the ‘Fleet mandated exams. Who he would kill if they hurt or scared kphzak.

The door to M’Benga’s office swung inward, showing it’s old make. M’Benga stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s going on?IsSorenok?What’shappened?” Jim babbled.

M’Benga stepped back to show that Soren was sitting, drinking what looked like a bowl of tea across from Dehner.

“You’re the one I’m worried about.” M’Benga said. “Come in, Captain.”

Jim walked into the room and sat next to Soren. M’benga’s office was identical to how it had been the week before other than the presence of the low, brass, intricately carved table that Soren was sitting in in front of. The script around the edges of the table was Ixil, M’benga’s native language but the designs in the center were in a different style.

“Why are you worried, Jim?” Soren put down his tea and asked.

“I _was_ worried,” Jim said. “I was worried that you weren’t ok but you’re fine so now I’m not worried.”

“Why _were_ you worried?” Soren corrected himself.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok.” Jim responded.

Soren dropped his bowl of tea onto the table with a loud clang and drove towards Jim, springing into his lap. Soren gripped Jim’s shirt and pulled it hard enough that Jim thought it might rip. Jim wrapped his arms around him.

“Woah, “ Jim said. “Are you ok there, mthzak?”

He could see Dahner tense up across from the table and M’benga walk around to stand behind her.

“Are they going to hurt me?” Soren asked.

“Nonononono, Soren.” Jim said. “I was worried because I wanted to make sure you were going to be alright. The doctor’s needed to check up on you to make sure you aren’t in any pain or having any bad dreams or anything like that.”

“ ‘m not.” Soren said but didn’t loosen his grip on Jim’s shirt. “I only slept last night.”

“Ok.” Jim said. “Did you have any bad dreams?”

“No,” Soren said. “But I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Was that when Spock was there?”

“I couldn’t sense you.” Soren shook his head. “You were dead like ko-mek.”

Jim readjusted Soren in his lap. “Komek” had died-probably right in front of Soren-an awful death at the hands of those tzlxw. Jim looked up at Dehner’s pinched mouth and M’Benga’s crossed arms. Jim resisted the urge to take a deep breath.

“Soren, can you look at me kan-bu?” Jim asked. Soren looked up, removing his nose from Jim’s shirt but not loosening his grip. “I’m really sorry I scared you. I got hurt four days ago and I’m sorry that no one told you that I was fine and let you worry. But I’m here now, I’m alive and I’ll make sure that you’re never left out of the loop again.”

“But I couldn’t sense you.” Soren responded.

“What do you mean?” Jim asked.

“Soren.” Dr. Dehner said. “Did you try to form a bond with the Captain?’

M’Benga put his hand on the human woman’s shoulder but Soren was already talking.

“He was nice to me.” Soren responded and pointed at Jim’s legs. “I’m safe here.”

“That’s good.” M’Benga asked, cutting of Dehner as he sat down next to the blond woman. “Can you sense Jim now?”

“Uhuh.” Soren bobbed his head in a nod. “He’s happy.”

“Is it like how you could sense your ko-mek and sa-mek?” Dehner asked.

Soren nodded and sniffled and Jim _really felt_ the turn in the little Vulcan’s mood. Jim did his best to calm his mind and kissed the top of Soren’s head. Soren put his hand up on the top of Jim’s nose and scratched his sharp little nails on the right side.

“Sa-mek disappeared when we got taken off the ship. Everybody’s sa-mek disappeared when we got taken off the ship. Except for T’Leel, M’anya and Slovar. ” Soren said. “M’anya said she lost her sa-mek when she got on the ship.”

“The ship with the Orions?” Jim asked. Soren shook his head.

“On the first ship,” Soren said, shaking his head. Jim looked up at Dehner and M’benga to see the alarm he felt mimicked in their faces.

“Soren,” Jim asked, forcing himself to remain calm. “Do you know who M’anya’s sa-mek was?”

“His name was Stark.” Soren said. “M’anya cried a lot even though my ko-meck said it was illogical.”

* * *

M’anya was a five or six year old vulcan girl with dark skin and a shaved head. Soren raced up to her the moment he walked into the room that had been set aside for the kanu. Jim waited outside, leaning against the wall across the hall from the room and watching Soren chatter excitedly with her. M’Benga went into the room after Soren and walked over to speak with the three women watching the children. Dehner stood next to Jim.

“Why aren’t you going in?” She asked him.

“Shouldn’t that be obvious?” Jim asked her back.

“It is,” Dehner responded. “But I’m surprised you prioritized how those traumatized children would react.”

“I’ve been one of those traumatized children.” Jim snapped back. Dehner looked like she’d been slapped across the face, her blue eyes going wide as she looked Jim up and down.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Dehner said.

Jim watched one of the women walk over to Soren and M’anya and kneel down to talk to them. Soren bobbed his head while she talked for a moment. Soren and M’anya then sped away to go play blocks in a corner with four other kanu.

“Stupid question. How are they doing?” Jim asked.

“M’Benga’s taking the lead with the kids but the women are coping as best they can.” Dehner said. “No one’s on suicide watch and they’re pretty close knit; sleeping communally, eating together and recovering physically.”

“That’s good?” Jim asked.

“Sorry?” Dehner responded.

“Is communal sleeping good?”

Soren got up from his seat with the block and bolted across the room to tug excitedly on M’Benga’s pant leg before showing him one of the blocks. M’Benga took the block from Soren and listened intently while Soren talked.

“For Vulcans, yes.” Dehner responded. “Vulcans heavily rely on extended family for telepathic and emotional support. Familial bonds can be an emotional safety net in times of crisis so that fact that they’re building a substitute one is absolutely fantastic for helping them cope with trauma.”

“So it’s like Orions and nests?” Jim clarified.

“Exactly,” Dehner said, looking relieved. Jim watched as Soren bolted back across the room to grab a block and then ran back to M’Benga. “Are you going to given Soren a pkank?”

“A pyank?” Jim said. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Soren turned around, away from M’Benga and raced toward the door. He charged out the door and right up to Jim, holding a plexi-glass block.

“Look Jim!” Soren held up his block. “I did a math block!”

“Really?” Jim knelt down. “What kind of math did you do?”

“It’s…” Soren hesitated before perking right back up. “Algebra!”

“That’s awesome!” Jim said. “Well done Soren!”

“I did a math block too!” A voice called out from the doorway. Jim looked up and saw M’anya standing there, bottom lip jutting out into a pout as she looked at her block.  

“That’s awesome!” Jim said. “Did you do algebra too?”

“Ha.” M’anya said. “Kup ozhika.”

“Ha!” Jim said back. “Du dahkuh nam-tor.”

“Du?” M’anya asked and looked up. Then she froze, her little mouth falling open and her face growing pale in terror. A dark skinned vulcan woman-the same woman hat Jim had seen while on bed rest-walked up behind M’anya. M’anya had her cheekbones.  

“Tu dahkuh nam-tor.”  M’anya’s mother corrected Jim while putting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Soren grabbed Jim’s pant leg. She bent down and spoke quickly to her daughter in a dialect Jim didn’t understand and M’anya ran back in. The woman straightened up while she kept her eyes glued on Jim and Soren. Jim knew Soren could sense how worried he was so he ran his fingers through kphzakp hair.   

“I was unaware you spoke Kir’shara, Captain.” The woman stated. “Did your first officer teach you?”

“Nirsh.” Jim said, switching into S’Larank. “Saven-tor vu.”

“Impressive.” The women responded. “T’nash-ve ahmau T’Pra.”

“mtGulhensat Jyman Tiberius Kirk.” Jyman said. “I offer you my name and I thank you for yours.”

“Puna-shau, Jyman.” T’Pra raised the ta’al. “I thank you for your trust.”

“Na’shaya.” Jim responded. “I thank you for yours.”

“Are you Stark’s wife?” Dehner asked, voice coming out of nowhere to remind Jim of her presence.

“Yes.” T’Pra said. “I am.”

Dehner looked at her for a minute and the looked at Jim and Soren.

“Would you like to go play, Soren?” Dehner asked. Soren shoot his head and continued to fiddle with his math block. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see what M’anya is doing?”

“Ok,” Soren said and rushed into the playroom. Dehner turned back to T’Pra, her brows scrunched together with worry. She opened her mouth but Jim cut across her.

“Perhaps we should talk in private.” Jim said.

“That would be logical.” T’Pra responded. “Dr. Dehner seems unduly concerned.”  



	4. Last visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> itsk-kan (small child)  
> La’shark (the sun)  
> ykoln tlank (underground railroad)-buried road
> 
> I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE CAUGHT THE STAR WARS REFERENCE!!! Can anybody find the TOS: The Animated Series references in this chapter?  
> EDIT: Chapter 5 will be back up sometime tomorrow or Thursday hopefully
> 
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

_A Human woman, a Vulcan woman and an Orion Captain walk into a 10’ by 10’ conference room on the USS Enterprise_ , Jim thought, that would be the start of a he wouldn’t be surprised if he heard in the bar. Heck, it would be better than half the ones that ended in a bathroom.

T’Pra chose the chair closest to the door to sit down in, flicking her braid over her shoulder in a movement that reminded Jim of Uhura as she did so. But the flick of her hair only served to disguise the subtle angling of her torso toward the door. Dehner didn’t seem to notice. In fact, Jim thought that she seemed distracted.

Jim chose the seat at the farthest end of the table as far away from T’Pra as possible which led to him sitting directly across from her. He leaned back in the chair and resisted the urge to cross his arms. Instead, Jim rested his arms along the arm rests, feeling uncomfortable with the exposure of his chest and belly to a woman he didn’t know. Dehner, on the other hand, sat on T’Pra’s left so close that she could bump her leg against the Vulcan woman’s knee. Jim watched the psychologist closely while he pulled up the computer on the table. He knew that Dehner had been counseling T’Pra for the last two and a half days or so. Jim was surprised that T’Pra didn’t inch away from her, showing just how comfortable T’Pra had to be with Dehner. Or so Jim thought as he opened the record feature on the table as well as another on his pad but left both of his hands hovering over the _Start_ buttons.

“Are you comfortable with this being recorded?” Jim asked T’Pra.

“Yes.” T’Pra responded.

“This’ll go to Yavin IV if they want it.” Jim said. “But it isn’t admissible in Federation court as you haven’t been read rights. You can leave at any time, refuse to answer any question and ask me to stop the recording at any time.”

“I would encourage you to send the recording to the authorities, Captain.” T’Pra responded. “It is logical.”   

Jim pressed _Start._

“Jim Kirk and Dr. Dehner with T’Pra regarding the disappearance of Stark.” Jim said for the recording. “Note to forward to Dagobah authorities on Yavin IV if requested.”   

T’Pra shifted away from the Doctor.

“T’Sai,” Jim began, “I am very sorry to have to have to put you through any kind of questioning but we have to ask you about your late husband.”

“Stark isn’t dead.” T’Pra responded automatically.

“What?” Dehner asked. “Are you sure you aren’t just sensing a Shielding Reflection?”

“Yes.” T’Pra responded as her mouth tightened, indicating her irritation despite the fact that her expression barely changed at all. “Over the last 72.8 hours, I have meditated on it and sought the help of others. My marital bond is still intact as is the bond between Stark and our children.”

Jim filed away the term _Shielding Reflection_ to bug M’Benga about later or Spock, but probably M’Benga. Jim rarely asked Spock anything about Vulcan customs. He should ask Spock though, Jim knew that well enough but when he’d tried Spock had given him the cold shoulder. But that was before Khan and them actually becoming friends.

“When did your husband go missing?” Jim asked T’Pra.

“He disappeared after we passed through customs.” T’Pra said. “Stark left our traveling group to relieve himself and failed to return to the ship. Haadok refused to eat at the time so I failed to realize Stark had not returned to the ship.”

“Did you tell the Captain or contact Dagobah officials?” Dehner asked.

“I did.” T’Pra asked. “47.34 hours after we had entered warp.”

Dehner wasn’t startled, something that really shouldn’t have raised Jim’s opinion of her but did regardless. The woman was an overqualified, extremely well educated woman and his Chief Psychologist and Jim shouldn’t be surprised that she knew not to judge a mother with three kids and a sick baby.

“Was it normal for you and Stark to shield your marital bond?” Jim asked. “Or could you not sense each other after a certain distance?”   

“Yes.” T’Pra responded, the corners of her mouth going tight. “Our marriage was arranged.”

“Don’t Vulcan’s choose spouses by mental compatibility?” Dehner asked, face curious.

“Did you see anyone or anything odd or out of place when you were at the spaceport?” Jim asked T’Pra, hoping to give the obviously uncomfortable woman an out.

“I saw no Orions.” T’Pra responded, automatically. Jim had to force himself not to cross his arms over his chest in a show of hostility.

“That is odd.” Jim said. Yavin IV was twelve planetary systems away from the official Federation Determined border along Orion space. When Jim had escaped along the ykoln tlank, Dagobah had been his second stop once in the Federation. It had a massive refugee population and to not see an Orion working at or even being in a Dagobah spaceport was not just odd; it was concerning. “Were there Orion ships in port?”

“I would not be able to identify one if I saw it.” T’Pra responded.

“Was your husband talking with anyone?” Dehner cut back into the conversation, stealing Jim’s next question out from his lungs. “Did he have any issues with security?”

“Stark spent most of his time with S’lek T’Laal Sofek, who had been Stark’s companion since childhood.” T’Pra explained. “Sofek desired to study kolinahr and often attempted to convince my husband to join him.”

Dehner cocked her head and wrote something down on his padd.

“Did he accompany Stark to the bathroom?” Jim asked. “And do you know if he came back?”

“He was on the other ship.” T’Pra explained.

“Was that a relief?” Dehner asked. T’Pra looked at the human woman sharply, her frustration obvious even to someone who’d never met a Vulcan.

“Ok,” Jim said. “One last question. Did Stark know anyone on Yavin IV?”

“I do not know.” T’Pra responded. Jim could see how worried her gaze became at his question. The Vulcan woman stood up, flicking her braid back over her shoulder. “Please keep me apprised.”

“Would…” Jim hesitated a moment, unsure of his phrasing. “I’m planning on taking Soren with me to the bridge at the start of Beta shift. Would you like to come along with M’anya, T’Leel, and Haadok?”

“Is Slovar welcome?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Jim shrugged.   

T’Pra nodded to Jim but ignored Dehner as she left. Dehner started scribbling frantically on her pad while Jim stopped the recording. He opened his documents and searched for the missing person report that Spock had had forwarded from Dagobah. Stark was reported missing to port authorities at 0432 Federation Standard Time, three days after the Raf-Glayek left Dagobah.

“She’s lying about something with Stark.” Jim said, offhandedly.

“Did you notice how she never referred to Stark as her husband?” Dehner responded.

“I’ll assume that’s weird for Vulcans.” Jim commented.

“Very weird.” Dehner said. “I almost asked her if her husband was having an affair.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Jim responded. “Arranged marriages are messy.”

Jim pulled up Stark’s custom details again.

_Federation Citizen. Vulcan Citizen. Protected Species. Male. 6’2. 210 lb. Black haired. Black eyed. Business owner. Industry; Import and Export._

Jim blinked down at the document and then looked up T’Pra, finding a _University Professor_ specializing in agriculture. Sofek’s customs record was much more interesting though.

“Oh shit.” Jim took a deep breath.

“What?” Dehner asked. Jim slid his pad over to her. She read it, her blue eyes going wide and her thin lips falling open.

_Federation Citizen. Vulcan Citizen. Protected Species. Male. 6’3. 210 lb. Black haired. Brown eyed. Business owner. Industry; Import and Export. Last visit to Yavin IV: 2260.6_

* * *

 Spock entered the elevator only to find it occupied by Jim. His head was bent down, clearly speaking to Soren who was tucked behind his leg. Jim looked up to give Spock a blinding smile. Spock felt his heart thunder in his side at the beautiful sight.

“Commander Spock.” A woman’s voice broke him out of his enjoyment of T’Jys’ beauty.

“T’Sai T’Pra.” Spock responded to the wife of Stark.

“Heya Spock.” Jim said. “Soren, you remember Spock?”

“Uhuh.” Soren said.

“Why don’t you introduce him to everyone else?”

Spock looked down at Soren and saw four other sets of large dark eyes peeing up at him. Spock was hastily introduced to Solvar, Haadok, T’Leel and M’anya who was Soren’s age and his future wife apparently. Spock wondered if Jim had been told. They were all going to the bridge with Jim apparently. Jim was returning to active duty after four days in sickbay and another two on medical leave, by some miracle. Spock had nearly killed him. Spock had nearly killed his Captain, his thyla but Jim had survived as if a gift from some benevolent deity.

Soren was physically standing between Jim and Spock in the elevator, holding onto the former’s pant leg. Spock looked at Soren with his scruffy hair and clipped and was relieved substantially more control over himself at the moment than he had had the 6.2 hours before. Soren greatly resembled his father.

“Can we see the internal dampers and the mapping computer?”  M’anya asked as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the bridge of the USS Enterprise. .

“You’ll have to ask Lieutenant Sulu, M’anya.” Jim responded. “He’s the Chief Navigator.”

“Is he logical?” M’anya asked. “Because if he’s logical he’ll let us see his computer.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around to your argument.” Jim said.

“Indeed,” T’Pra told her daughter. “But your arguments must be well presented and logical.”

“They will be!” Soren said. “M’anya’s smart.”

Jim led the group of Vulcans into his proclaimed first love. The bridge was filled to max capacity as the Alpha shift crew finished their work and Beta shift began their shift. Spock chair was occupied by a violet, bald head but that did not matter to Jim at the moment. Ensign Dahlian was a highly capable Science Officer but he was still in Spock’s seat. Spock decided that the most productive thing to do would be to follow Jim and Soren toward the navigation console.  

“Wow.” Soren said, expressing a universally understood gasp of awe.

“I know,” Jim responded. “She’s awesome isn’t she?”

“She?” Soren asked, looking around the bridge and still clutching Jim’s legs.

“The Enterprise.” Jim responded. “She’s a great big, brave, beautiful lady.”

Soren looked confused so Spock decided to speak up.

“Humans refer to ships as female.” Spock said. “Personifying objects is a way in which they show affection.”

“You are an Orion though.” Soren said to Jim as they approached Lieutenant Darwin.

“What’d you do now?” Lieutenant Darwin asked Jim. “Sir.”

“I’m half-human.” Jim quickly changed the topic and asked Lieutenant Darwin. “Can you show his the navi-computer?”

“Please?” Soren asked, giving the Lieutenant a slow blink that made him look especially pitiful. Sofek used to behave very similarly when they were in their first level together. The older boy had outgrown the behavior very quickly once they had graduated into the second level and their T’Kehr became less willing to curb the behavior of the other children. He could distinctly remember the day when Sofek, Stark, Sepek and Stonn had realized they were free to do as they pleased with Spock. Spock could remember how their faces changed at the realization they could expand their experiments.   

“Sure.” Darwin said with a grin. Spock watched as Jim spoke softly to a little boy, asking him if he could lift him up before propping the two and a half year old onto his hip. Soren looked down at the console in awe while Jim watched Sofek’s kan-bu with a smile that lit his face. _La’shark,_ Spock thought, _T’Jys was La’shark._ And this was illogical. T’Jys was not Sofek’s mate nor kin nor the mate nor kin of his wife but he behaved like custodian for Soren. Spock turned away from Jim and Soren, determined to correct the Orion’s mistake at a later date.  

Spock walked toward his station to request that Ensign Dahlian vacate his seat but found his path blocked by Nyota. She was kneeling down speaking to a itsk-kan who looked to be about Soren’s age.  

“Ohhh….petakov.” Spock heard Nyota coo as Ensign Chekov joined her in keeping Spock from his station.  

“Hello little wulcan!” Chekov waved at Soren. “Velcome to the Enterprise!”

“Nashaut!” The little girl waved back at him. “I am M’anya, daughter of Stark!”

Spock turned away from his path to his station, intent on ignoring the scene playing in front of him as he headed toward Dr. Marcus, intent on dislodging her from her seat. It was not his but it would suit him for the moment.   

  



	5. Pipwulcet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pipwulcet (little vulcan)  
> tren-tor Kolinahr (kolinahr master)  
> plak-lakht (blood rage)  
> Ykanhzlank-an Orion sexual behavior. I want to include the explanation of exactly what it is in a later chapter but I will ask if anyone remembers the bullshit about Orion men actually being slaves to Orion woman in Star Trek: Enterprise? Yeah. I'll be dismantling that, thank you very much. Speaking of Enterprise, has anyone seen Cat's Don't Dance? Captain Archer can seriously carry a tune. 
> 
> So yeah...this chapter basically serves as a jumping off point for the rest of the story. I first published it right before I went back to my outline and realized that 10 chapters was far too ambitious for all the stuff I had crammed into the outline. Additionally, this is first time Spock and Jim spend any real time together and I didn't really think I did that justice, especially because their suppose to get together and all that.  
> Btw: thanks to everyone who’s left comments!! They really make my day and once I figure out how to respond to them I’ll be more than happy to answer your questions/coo over Soren with you!
> 
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

Spock was meditating when his door chimed, loudly. He pulled himself from the depths of his mind and opened his eyes only to feel them water as the last plumes of smoke wafted up from the incense he had set in front of his crossed legs. Spock got up slowly, feeling his joints creak as he stood. Spock stepped over the incense carefully and picked the smoking ceramic bowl off the matt. The floor was cold against Spock’s bare feet despite the fact that the half-Vulcan kept his room at 115 degrees Fahrenheit. Spock put his incense on the coffee table and bent to pick up his wrap but the doorbell rang again. It was obnoxious.

Spock left his wrap where it sat, folded, on the edge of his meditation matt. He walked to door, weaving around his coffee table and taking a moment to straighten the knitted throw pillow he kept on his couch. Spock open his door from the pad on its side rather simply giving a voice command. Whomever had decided to be so rude deserved no courtesy from him.

The door slid open to reveal the Captain, still in his uniform, standing there with a grin and his pad tucked in his left elbow. The smile faced as the Captain’s eyes rested on Spock’s bare abdomen. Jim’s face was always pleasant color slightly paler than the deep green of a full blooded Orion but when he blushed his cheeks transformed into a lovely, caci-like green. Blushing also enhanced the half-Orion’s freckles.

“Captain.” Spock said and stepped aside, hoping to entice Jim into his quarters.

“Commander.” Jim said while not walking in. “I can come back.”

“It is no trouble, Jim.” Spock responded, folding himself even farther back into the wall. “You disturb nothing.”

Jim stepped into Spock’s room with cheeks that were still bright green. Spock watched as T’Jys walk moved around his room with confidence, completely at ease with his surroundings. As he should be. Jim stopped in front of Spock’s coffee table and bent down to examine his incense, unintentionally displaying his ample bottom in a breeding position. Spock was forced to reminded himself that it would be illogical to haul the Captain to his bed and rip the clothes from his body. Not only would it be illogical but it would be counterproductive as Spock doubted that Jim, a former slave, would enjoy being claimed before the parameters of such an encounter had been firmly established.

“Favinit root?” Jim asked.

“Yes, indeed Captain.” Spock responded. “I am surprised you recognize the scent.”

“The leaves are used in Spice and Halo sticks.” Jim shrugged before his expression turned earnest. “If you were meditating I _can_ come back in the morning, Spock.”  

“It is no matter Captain. You have disturbed nothing of importance.” Spock assured his t'hy'la as he sat on his couch and gestured for Jim to join him. Jim sat down and leaned back, arms relaxed with his hands on his thighs. Spock took a moment to admire the broad palms and fine boned fingers. Jim’s hands were strong and callused but he still maintained long nail beds and well formed joints that gave his fingers a deceptive appearance of delicacy.

“What is it you require?” Spock asked Jim.     

“I interviewed T’Pra this morning and I wanted your opinion on what she had to say.” Jim unlocked his pad and proceeded to play the interview. Spock took the opportunity to watch Jim as he watched the recording play. T’Jys was beautiful, a fact Spock had been forced to acknowledge since the moment he had met the half-human. He had exquistally curved ears that made an almost half moon from the side of his head but were highlighted by his freckles and the barely visible piercing holes.

“.....most of his time with S’lek T’Laal Sofek, who had been Stark’s companion since childhood.” Spock heard from the recording. His head snapped around to stare down at the recording. _They_ had both survived while his mother had died. _They_ had both been allowed to father children and bond while T’Pring had lost both Stonn and her first born son  that day.

Spock forced himself to take a deep breath and continued to listen. After a moment, he reached out and put his hand on Jim’s arm. Jim leaned, with the most minute movement into Spock’s touch. Spock fought the urge to purr or nuzzle T’Jys. The recording stopped.

“What’d you think?” Jim asked.

“I was not present for the conversation, Jim.” Spock responded as he barely managed to keep his anger from his voice. “I would know both your and Dr. Dehner’s opinions before I finalize my own.”

“I think she’s lying about something with Sofek and Stark.” Jim responded, thankfully oblivious to Spock’s internal struggle. “Did you notice how Dehner said she never referred to Stark as her husband?”

“I did not.” Spock said.

“Dehner says it’s abnormal.”

“An accurate assumption.” Spock responded. “Most Vulcan’s have an unfortunate possessive streak when it comes to their mates.”

“Is that why Uhura left?” Jim laughed with grin lighting up his already luminescent eyes. Spock could not fathom how he had once thought them gaudy when paired with Jim’s skin. He had been a fool.

“In part.” Spock responded. “Dominance based mating practices are something unfamiliar to humans and it is logical to assume that many would be unwilling to adapt.”

“Well,” Jim said. “It’s official; You’re a better liar than T’Pra.”

“I did not lie, Captain.” Spock responded. “I simply misdirected.”

“Is that how you rationalize it?” Jim chuckled softly and shook his head at Spock.

“Rationalization is illogical, Captain.” Spock responded. “Vulcans do not partake in the behavior.”

“Yeah right.” Jim said while he looked up Spock through his lashes. The half-Vulcan wondered if Jim was aware of how infuriatingly appealing he was. “Sometimes it’s part of processing and you know that as well as I do.”

“I fear you will never have even the faintest comprehension of the Vulcan mental processes, Jyman.” Spock teased as he allowed his mouth to form into a smile. Jim was, as always, an adequate distraction from more turbulent emotions.

“Well, I highly doubt you know much about Orions either, Spockums.” Jim teased back. Spock felt his cheeks heat at the affectionate nickname but quickly repressed the reaction. “But I can tell when a Vulcan is talking out of his or her ass.”

Spock felt his entire body tense in apprehension as he thought Jim was about to inquire as to Spock’s intentions. But the Captain did not, instead he simply looked down at his pad and opened a customs document.

“T’Pra was talking out of her ass.” Jim said.

“She may hold some animosity toward her husband, Captain.” Spock said. “But I highly doubt it implicates her in his disappearance.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about.” Jim said and handed Spock his pad.

Spock’s eyebrows raced up his forehead as he read through the simple customs document. It said very little and nothing of importance for that matter.

“There is nothing of relevance in this document, Captain.” Spock said. “I fail to see why you would present something I, myself, compiled to me.”

“You haven’t seen Gaila’s report on the slaver’s communications.” Jim said. Spock looked at he grim line of Jim’s mouth. “They had a mole on one of the ships.”

There had been one hundred and eighty men, women and children on those ships. That _one_  had betrayed the rest to the most disturbing fate in the universe would send even the most practiced tren-tor Kolinahr into a rage ferocious enough to rival the plak-lakht of their ancestors. Spock was no such master. He sat in silence, battling the rage coursing through his veins. Spock cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders then stared down at his shaking hands. _They belonged around the traitor’s neck_ , he decided.

“Spock?” Jim asked, big eyes, wide as they watched the half-Vulcan. His mouth was hanging open much as it had when Spock had nearly taken Jim’s life.

Spock sprung away from T’Jys and began to pace, placing the coffee table between himself and the half-Orion. _Half-feral and half-arrogant_ , Spock had thought when he had first seen Jim eating that bright red apple in the simulation room, _it is impossible to tell which illogical half is responsible for finally revealing his unsuitability for Star Fleet. Perhaps he would find employment raiding with the rest of his kin once the logical sentence of expulsion had been carried out._

“Continue please.” Spock’s voice broke he spoke. “Did Lieutenant Vro discover the identity of the _Orion_ spy?”

“No.” Jim said as he stood from the couch. The half-Orion walked up to Spock and put a palm onto the half-Vulcan’s collar bone to still him. Jim opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but Spock threw his arms around Jim’s waist and dragged the smaller male into his embrace.   

“Hey,” Jim cooed to the half-Vulcan. “I’ve got you.”

Spock dropped his nose into the side of T’Jys’ neck. He rarely allowed himself the luxury of his thyla’s pheromones but as he felt his body relax, Spock thought that this particular indulgence was justified. Jim’s hand rubbed up and down the side of Spock’s bare ribs.

“Your touch is soothing.” Spock told the half-Orion.

“I don’t think you need to be soothed, Spock.” Jim said into Spock’s ear. “You’ve got every right to be raging right now.”

“ _Raging_ is illogical.” Spock responded even as he managed to rein in the rage battering at his mental shields. The half-Vulcan lifted his left hand and cupped Jim’s cheek as he turned his head to rest his nose against the scent gland behind Jim’s handsome ear.  

“Bullshit.” Jim said. “Spock that’s bullshit. Anger is one of greatest catalyst for change in the entire universe.”

“As you have told me 185.7 times before.” Spock said and relaxed his grip around Jim’s body.

“.7?” Jim chuckled and as if to guide Spock back to his body, Jim moved the hand petting his ribs to run his palm along Spock’s spine. Spock’s entire body jerked toward Jim before dragged himself out of Jim’s embrace.

“Spock?” Jim all but yelped, concerned.

“Vulcan spinal columns are incredibly sensitive and touch can be painful along certain vertebrae.” Spock lied as he desperately tried to quell his lok’s attempt to expand out of it’s pouch.

“Sorry.” Jim responded, his pupils dilating as he looked up at the older man. “I didn’t know.”

Spock felt his how stiff his nostrils were as he resettled his facial muscles.  He went back back to the couch, again putting the coffee table between himself and T'Jys. He picked up his wrap from its place and put it on. Jim moved around him to sit back down, barely avoiding touching the half-Vulcan. Spock, illogically, was not grateful for the gesture.                    

“Dehner thinks Stark and Soren’s father- _Sofek_ -may have been having some kind of affair.”  Jim said. He picked up and unlocked his pad. Then he handed it to Spock.

“That is unlikely.” Spock responded before looking at Sofek’s records. It was a miracle that Spock did not crush the pad between his palms.  

“What? Vulcans don’t cheat?” Jim scoffed.

“It is almost physically possible for a bonded Vulcan to engage in sexual congress with an individual who is not their bondmate.” Spock explained. “Additionally, both Sofek and Stark showed little inclination toward the other in such a manner.”

“You knew them?” Jim asked, his eyes glueing onto Spock’s face.

“Yes.” Spock said, hesitantly. “We attended the same Learning Center.”

“What do you remember about them?” Jim asked Spock.

“They were unremarkable individuals, mediocre students but socially active.” Spock responded. It was not a lie.

“Were they close?” Jim asked.

“Close, Captain?” Spock responded. “It is illogical for Vulcan children to maintain close friendships but they were frequently together.”

Jim looked away from Spock to stare down at the padd. Jim’s expression seemed sad for a moment and he looked at the small paragraph of Customs Data on the screen.

“Spock,” Jim said while not looking at him. “Is there anything else you remember about them?”

“No Captain.” Spock responded, lying through his teeth as he did so. “I will meditate on it but I do believe there will be anything of relevance to the authorities on Yavin IV.”

“Do you think Sofek or Stark could be capable of selling out their own wifes and children?” Jim asked.

“Yes.” Spock said sharply. “If they found it logical.”

“Thanks Spock,” Jim said as he got up. “That’s really helpful. How ‘bout I’ pick your brains some more over breakfast?”

“Perhaps you would stay for a game of chess, Captain?”

“Can’t.” Jim shook his head. “I’ve got to go check on Soren.”

T’Jys walked out of Spock’s room without so much of a backwards glance. Spock stood in his living area, staring at the door through which the Orion had disappeared. He knew that lying to Jim was unwise, especially as he planned to court him once the mission had been completed. There was little to say about his involvement with Sofek and Stark that would be relevant. And he had told the truth; Sofek would likely have been capable of consorting with slave traders should he have found it beneficial.

But now he had additional concerns. There was a 66.8% chance that he would need to begin preparations to court T’Jys before the mission had ended. And there was the matter of the custody of Sofek’s son. Jim would likely be pursued by one of the child’s relatives should their supposed parental bond be confirmed. Spock returned to his meditation mat, mind more disquieted than it had been when Jim had first rung his doorbell.

* * *

Jim stood outside of Spock’s door, torn between returning to the delicious, warm, pheromone soaked paradise that was _his First Officer’s Quarters_ or waiting outside and trying to get some clean air into his system. He hadn’t lied to Spock, he did need to go check on Soren but, Hagga’s tits, he didn’t want to right now.

 _You need to fuck Spock,_ Gaila had told him. Jesus, Surak, Hagga and whatever other gods might answer the prayers of a half-Orion runaway, _someone_ needed to fuck Spock. The man stank of rage and lust. _Ykanhzlank,_ Jim thought. He didn’t know it could happen to other species but if it was anybody else, then Vulcans would make sense. It would explain the insistence of keeping bonded pairs together. _But still_ , Jim thought as he walked toward his own room, he hoped that Spock’s lust wouldn’t get to the point where he’d need to hit something. Jim remembered what the woman who’d been loaned out to males who gotten to Ykanhzlank looked like when they’d come back. If they came back.

Jim was almost grateful he’d never have to worry about it. Jim opened the door to his quarters and had a moment of pure blinding horror. _His pheromones could be setting Spock off_. But, no, that wasn’t right, hell, he’d been tested when he first got into Starfleet and he hadn’t had near enough to even have a doctor consider blockers.

Jim shook himself out of his stupor. He needed to grab his teddy bear. The thing was sitting, as clean and untouched as the day he’d gotten it, in one the drawers by his bed. The volunteers at the refugee camp had given them out in batch’s of ten along with the orange blankets Jim still had on his bed. Gaila had gotten the first one, his mom the second when she’d run him down in San Francisco and Bones the seventh. The ninth had been a waste but the eighth had been in Chris’ baby son’s crib, last Jim had seen. Jim didn’t even wonder if giving his final one to Soren would be a waste. Hagga, even if Soren got bounced off to some Vulcan foster family he’d need something soft and cuddly. Especially if he got bounced off to some Vulcan foster family.

Jim open and scooped the bear up out of the drawer that made up most of his nest. There was his father’s old baseball cap-the one he’d given Jim’s mother-next to Gaila’s purple bear, a set of socks, an old star fleet sweat-shirt and a whiskey flask. There was a set of socks that rolled off of his bear’s belly when Jim picked it up that he really needed to throw out but that didn’t matter now.

Jim sniffed the bear only to find that it barely smelled like him so he rubbed the bear’s soft belly against the scent glands on his chin and neck until he had marked it enough. Then he tucked the bear under his arm and called Medbay with the comm on his wall.

“How can I help you?” M’Ress’s smooth, Caitian voice came over the line.

“Do you know who’s on creché duty?”

“For the Vulcan kittens?”

“Yeah.” Jim responded. “I have a stuffed animal I wanna give Soren.”

There was a moment of silence on the other line.

“Doctor Chapel and a mother named T’Pra are with the kittens tonight.”

“Thanks, M’ress.” Jim responded. “I’ll be down in a minute.”            

 _Two birds, one stone,_ Jim thought. He had some more questions for T’Pra. Jim left his quarters quickly, heading to the lift. He punched the button going down but it swung open as he approached it to reveal his head os security out for a midnight jaunt, apparently.  

“Captain.” Hendorff said in greeting as he stepped out of the lift. The burly male was in gym clothes and had freshly showered but Jim could still smell the scent of a human woman on his skin. Her scent was faint but Jim thought he could take a good guess that Cupcake had just come from Dehner’s rooms.

“Lieutenant.” Jim responded. “How’re you doing?”

“Good, sir.” Hendorff said, mouth slipping into a dorky grin. “What about yourself?”

“I’m getting there.” Jim responded. “Would you be up for a game of poker tomorrow night, say 20:30?”

“Can’t sir.” Hendorff said. “I’m afraid I’ve already got plans. Are we still doing the lunch meeting tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Jim said. “My office at 11 hundred.”

“That works for me sir.” Hendorff responded. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” Jim said as he stepped into the lift. “Hey, before I forget. Can you bug Marcus to get on that weapons eval?”

“Trust me, Sir.” Hendorff called over his shoulder. “She’s working a double shift but they had some weird shit on that ship.”

Jim punched the level for Medbay into the elevator wall. He stood there, in the enclosed bright lights and felt his stomach jerk. The Orion’s ship’s lift had been twice the size with grey walls but the bright lights reminded him of the brain and blood on the walls nonetheless.

What the fuck had a privateer ship been doing in Federation space?

 _That wasn’t what it had been_ , Jim thought, _it was a fucking warship._ He’d seen less armored ships whose destination was the Klingon-Romulan hotzone. That was how the Syndicate worked after all, every tahedri got exactly what they needed when they needed it unless they were fucking the right person, of course. 

The lift doors swung open to reveal an exhausted looking Dr. McCoy standing there with a scowl on his face.

“Jim, why the hell aren’t you asleep?” Bones groused. “What’d you break this time?”

“I’m here to check on Soren before I tuck in.” Jim responded and held up the teddy bear.

“Jesus Christ.” Bones muttered. “Have they found his relatives on New Vulcan yet?”

“Nope.” Jim said. “Uhura’s expecting a full runup from the Council in the morning.”

“Think they’ll let you keep him?” Bones asked.

“All I can do is ask.” Jim said and stepped around his friend. “See you tomorrow.”

Bones grunted as he got into the elevator while Jim walked down the hall. The night creché was in the largest private medical room aboard the ship. Most of the adult Vulcans had moved out of sickbay but the children stayed. T’Pra had said it was to keep them in a stable environment until they got to New Vulcan and moved them off the ship. Jim couldn’t blame them.

“Hey!” Jim waved to M’Ress.

“Room 354.” M’ress pointed him in his way with a sharp clawed finger.

“Thanks.” Jim responded.

When he got there, he buzzed the padd on the door so that it sent a silent alert to the comm on the wall. Jim could see it flash red through the small glass panel on the door. He wondered if T’Pra and Chapel were asleep but then Christine opened the door while holding a chuffing Haadok.

“Colic?” Jim asked as the Doctor stepped into the hallway.

“No. The light woke him up.” Christine said back, clearly to the point of exhaustion where she was starting to get pissed off. “What do you want, Jim?”

Jim held up the bear. Chapel looked unimpressed and even more mad as Haadok continued to fuss in her arms. He supposed it was too much to ask for an old friend with benefits to know about pyank.

“I had it in a drawer and I thought Soren might like it.”

“Fine.” Chapel snapped and stepped aside to let Jim into the room.

“Where’s T’Pra?” Jim asked in a whisper as he passed the Doctor.

“Do I look like I know?” Chapel whispered back.

There were a dozen sleeping bags containing the youngest of the children smack in the center of the room. And one crib for Haadok. Jim assumed the other two babies were with their mothers. Soren slept next to M’anya, smack in the middle of the clump of sleeping Vulcans that took up the center of the room. There was barely any space to step between the kan-bus as they were bunched so closely together. Jim walked around the edge of the pipwulcet group.

 _The clowder of Vulcans? Or would it be a kindle as they were toddlers?_ Jim wondered. Upon closer inspection Soren and M’anya were sharing the same sleeping matt but in two different bags. They weren’t the only ones. In fact, there were several pairs of kan-bus who had their heads on the same pillows.  

“How hard did you have to fight to only have,” Jim counted up the Vulcans. “Eight of them sleeping together?”

“Far too hard.” Chapel looked up fro where she was putting Haadok in the crib. “Did you know that pulling hijabs is ‘logical’ according to your kid?”

“Sorry about that.” Jim responded as he finally noticed how crooked the doctor’s baby blue hijab actually was. It had been jerked so far back that Jim could see not the front of her hairline as was common but also her blue earrings. Jim knelt down on the floor intending to lean over and kiss Soren on the head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Look at you, being an actual parent.” Chapel griped back at him as she grabbed her book. Jim stiffened automatically. His head snapped around and he looked at the doctor with wide, horrified eyes. Christine had gone back to rocking Haadok and it took a moment for her to notice Jim’s stare.

“Oh.” Chapel said, waiving her hand about as if to calm him down. “That’s not what I meant. Allah, Jim, I’m so sorry. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jim responded, looking away from her and back to Soren. “You made the right choice. I was just happy you let me come to the clinic with you.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Chapel snarked. “A lot of women would have killed for that kind of support from a fuck buddy.”

“It was the least I could do.” Jim responded, giving her a wry grin.

“I meant fuckboy.” Chapel snapped back. “Fuckboy fuckbuddy.”

Jim allowed himself a chuckle.

“I wasn’t good for much else, was I?” Jim muttered more to himself than Christine. But she heard him anyways and shook her head.

“Depends on who you ask.”

Jim chuckled and gave her a blinding grin. Chapel simply raised one single eyebrow before attempting to return to her book.

“I see that your time amongst the Vulcans has payed off.” Jim teased. Chapels cheeks blushed a bright red and she glared at him.

“Not a word about that to anyone Kirk.” Christine snapped.

“Trust me,” Jim and raised a hand up in surrender. “The fact that I once wore pointy-eared prosthetics during roleplay is the last thing I want anyone to find out about.”

With that Chapel returned to Haadok while Jim carefully maneuvered his body around and over the kan-bus to be able to reach Soren. He was sleeping peacefully, with his bangs falling over his eyebrows and the overgrown ends of his hair curling around his chin. Jim raised a hand and gently tucked a few strands behind his undamaged ear. As he touched Soren’s cheek, he was able to sense a how content he was in his slumber. Jim smiled  and then reached to lift the sleeping bag up, intending to tuck the teddy bear in with Soren.

 _Vulcan children wore nightgowns_. It was some obscure fact he’d gotten on one of the few days he hadn’t slept through Archer’s Internal Diplomacy Class or been helping Gaila with flashcards or flipping through one of the textbooks Gary had never read. Jim put the teddy bear atop the sleeping bag but tucked it as close to Soren’s body as he could.     

“Can’t Spock see everything in a mindmeld?” Chapel’s voice cut through Jim’s thoughts.

“What?” Jim asked and slowly, slowly weaved his way out of the little Vulcan pile.

“When you two meld can’t Spock see what we did?” Chapel asked. Her face was blanched white in obvious terror. Jim couldn’t imagine that anybody would want their crush to know that they had a kink for their species, much less if that crush was _your fucking patient._  

“I’ve never melded with Spock.” Jim said.

“Why?” A small voice asked from the center of the kindle of Vulcans. Soren’s eyes weren’t even sleepy. He was sitting straight up, holding the top of his sleeping bag in his little hands. “Why? Do you not like melds, sa-mek?”

 


	6. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pipwulceti (i is plural)
> 
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

“No.” Jim responded softy. “Spock and I don’t meld because we aren’t married, kan-bu, and that’s something married people do.”

“Ok.” Soren yawned. Jim could pinpoint the moment Soren noticed the teddy bear. His pudgy hands shot out from his chest and snatched it. He held the bear up to his eye level, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“Why is the sehlat blue?” Soren asked. “Where are it’s fangs?”

“That’s a bear sweetie.” Jim responded. “It’s a Terran animal.”

“What kind?” Soren asked and shook the toy. M’anya wiggled around next to Soren so he used the bear to hit her in the face.

“Soren.” Jim hissed. “That’s not nice.”

M’anya sat straight up and Soren hit her with the bear again. M’anya let out a wail at the same moment Chapel swore viciously and dove toward the kitten pile. It did little good. Within seconds all of the kan-bu were awake, squirming and chuffing their way out of their sleeping bags.

Directly in front of Jim was a little girl with a head full of ringlet curls had been sleeping on her belly but when M’anya wailed she lifted her head straight up from the pillow and saw Jim. Her eyes dilated with fear and she screamed at the top of her lungs. Jim sprang backward from the pile of pipwulceti and continued to scramble away until his back hit the wall.

The metal was frigid against the back of his neck and the little girl kept screaming. Jim could see her pointing at him from the edge of the little pile. He was screaming as the blood poured down his face before the knife came down on the ten year old’s neck again.

“Tyt.” Mokkar said as the boy bled out at his feet. “Hagga yalkink mttyt.”

Jim could feel the hand on his shoulder as he was shoved forward. His legs locked and he fell on his face into the mud. The man behind him pulled him up by his throat and dragged him to the executioner.

“Towatyle.” The man had said. Jim was dragged through the ten year olds blood.

Chapel slapped Jim square across the face.

“Mother fucker.” She snarled as Jim blinked stupidly up at her, hyperventilating.

“Sa-mek?” Soren shouted, trying to push past Chapel.

 _Shit,_ Jim thought, _I have to get out of here._

“Jim, you need to take a deep breath.” Chapel said as she held Soren around the abdomen and pulled him away from Jim. Jim got up from the wall, standing shakily on his legs. He thought he was about to fall over as he stumbled toward the door.

“Jim.” Chapel snapped. “Go to M’Ress.”

Soren got out of her grip and bolted toward Jim just as he made it out of the door.

“Sa-mek!” Soren ran at Jim, still holding the teddy bear. M’anya was hot on his heels. Jim stared at the little Vulcans and tried to force himself to stop shaking.

“Heya Soren.” Jim knelt down and gave Soren a hug, doing his best to even out his breathing. It wasn’t working. “It’s ok.”

Jim could see Soren’s clipped ear twitch on the side of his head and heard the little boy let out a clack-spit sound from where he’d stuck his nose into Jim’s neck. Chapel towered over Jim, her hand extended down toward Jim and Soren with her painted glossy nails catching the light.

“Jim.” Chapel said as one of Soren’s hands went up to grab his face.

“Jim!” Chapel shouted as the little palm pressed against his temple. Jim felt a rush of fear and panic and worry invade his already overwhelmed mind.

* * *

Spock woke from his meditation as if his comm was beeping. The sudden sharp jerk of his body in response to a violent auditory change in the environment surrounding it. But when Spock regained the function of his ears as he rose from the depths of his mind he heard nothing. The half-Vulcan opened his eyes to his dark, empty quarters and an overpowering sense of dread. He got up from his meditation mat, disturbed and perplexed by the sensation. Spock felt as if he needed to flee _to_ someone.

But as quickly as the sensation came, Spock repressed it. He took seven strides and walked into the bathroom he shared with the Captain. It was, as Spock had expected, empty. The half-Vulcan stripped his meditation wrap and pants from his body and stepped into the shower. Spock, despite his Vulcan heritage, turned on the water. He enjoyed water showers but only if they were incredibly hot. So he took one.

Spock stood beneath the lukewarm ninety-eight-point-five-degrees water and felt the sudden urge to vomit. His stomach should have digested his dinner 2.14 hours ago which would indicate that his digestive pain ought to be coming from his small intestine but yet it was located higher in his abdomen. Spock attempted to repress it but it only grew.

It was illogical to focus on an unknown, nearly unrecognizable, unplaceable emotion but Spock’s throat closed up nonetheless. Jim could be mated to one of Soren’s kin within the next two weeks. But that was an illogical concern.

Soren’s father was confirmed dead. Sofek _was dead_ and Jim cared for his son as if he was the boy’s grieving mother. And Soren was the incarnation of his father in the face and his mannerisms. Sofek would flee to his mother after school everyday and be welcomed with open arms to tell his tales of Spock’s freakishness but Amanda could never so much as touch him without being shamed.

Even after his kahs-wan Sofek was a child, fed on sweets and praise while all he delivered to others was abuse. To have in son holding onto Jim’s shoulders just as Sofek had held Spock’s shoulders down onto the linoleum floor was sickening. But it was illogical to dwell on that incident.

Spock stepped out of the shower and turned the water off, not feeling refreshed at all.  The simple green light showing on the wall next to one of the two doors. Jim’s door was unlocked. Spock turned and pressed the comm on the side of the door.

“Computer,” Spock said. “Locate Captain Kirk.”

“Captain Kirk is in MedBay Number 3.” The Computer’s distinctly feminine voice responded. Spock pulled his clothes on and raced out of the bathroom. “Dear.” The Computer followed up. Spock could not fathom why Starfleet Headquarters did not consider the glitch to at least a Level 2 compromise to the ship’s integrity.

* * *

_Ko-mek was bleeding, screaming and there was a man on top of her._

Soren had been screaming the entire time too, Jim realised, standing in the tiny cell aboard a now a now destroyed ship. Jim kicked the male on top of Ko-mek and his foot made contact with the man’s head. But it did nothing to stop the horrific scene. It was as if he had not even felt it. The second man turned, as if he had nothing to do, and grabbed at Soren.

Jim watched helpless, frantically trying to stop the men- _who he couldn’t touch-_ and imagined cooking him alive. The flesh fell from the slaver’s body, leaving only browned Bones behind. Bones was staring at him through the dead man's rinçage, his Brown eyes wide with worry. The smell of bile that was consistent on a slave ship was overwhelmed by antibiotics and disinfectant.

Jim turned to the other male only to see two sets of bones and two plates of neatly cut meat on a table. It was a Vulcan style table, low to the ground atop of a red rug. There were three cups of tea and three half eaten bowls of soup.

Soren sat down at the table, picked up a spoon, looked at it, looked at Jim and then threw it in his face. Jim caught it. Soren then flipped one of the cups and one of the soup bowls over. The liquid that came out was the burgundy and red of Human and Orion blood. Soren then held out his hand as the liquid spilled into the little boys lap.

“Spoon please, Sa-mek.” Soren told him, voice even younger than he sounded at three years old.

“No.” Jim told him. “You threw this at me so it’s mine now. You shouldn’t throw things if you want to keep them.”

Soren’s little brow knitted together, sitting in front of a dinner table that had appeared in a slave cage. And the table was covered with cooked sentient flesh and blood. 

 _Hagga’s fucking teats_. 

Soren just reached out, grabbed another spoon and started hitting the backs of the cup and bowl. The door to the cell banged open and revealed a tall, thin Vulcan man. He was very well dressed and wore a heavy necklace that had a ruby in the very center of the chains.

“Sa-mek!” Soren cheered and kept banging on the backs of the utensils. He ignored Soren and walked straight through Jim. It was Sofek, Jim realized, this was Sofek. Soren’s father walked up to a handsome man with large, heavily lidded, wide set eyes and a pointed chin. The two men spoke so softly that Jim couldn’t hear them despite the fact they were mere inches away. Soren’s father held out two fingers to the man but he just turned from him and disappeared into the wall. Soren’s father stood with his two fingers extended, frozen. Jim poked his head and he rocked like he was a hollow, plastic mannequin. Jim poked him again. Sofek toppled over.

A loud giggle rang from the table. Jim looked back and saw Soren still smacking his spoon against the ceramics. Next to him was Jim's mother, head bent and scalp dripping blood onto the top of her son’s head.

“T’Sai?”

She looked up at him and Jim froze in horror. Wyella Kirk’s yellow eyes looked up at him from above her destroyed, phaser burnt and shattered jaw. Jim hadn’t seen her corpse before they had cremated her. _Hagga’s tits_ , he’d been two quandrents away when she’d died. Jim lunged forward and grabbed Soren from out under her hands.

The sound that came out from the depths of his mother’s throat had to be the wind rising from the Fifth ocean of the Underworld. Jim ran from the room with Soren in his arms, fully convinced that the hounds of the Hunter were at his heels.

Jim raced through the never ending rows and rows of full cages but he kept running. From the peripherals of his vision, Jim saw his brother’s baseball shirt on a dozen children, Gaila’s wild red curls atop dancing, naked women and Kyla’s scarred back on sobbing men.

Finally, finally, the cages ended and Jim stumbled into what looked like Selek’s living room. But it wasn’t. There was a couch but the rug was red and the table was of a Betazoid make. Soren squirmed in his arms and Jim looked down to see that the little boy’s ear was bleeding. One of his eyes were swollen shut.   

“Hey Soren?” Jim asked as he gently set him onto the couch. “Can you look at me?”

Soren nodded and did so. Jim raised a finger up to Soren’s eye level.

“He has a concussion.” Bones’ voice rang out from behind Jim. Jim sprung up but when he turned around a tall, thin, olive-skinned Vulcan woman. She wore a knee length, boxy light purple dress and her hair was piled high into the sleek beehive. She had Soren’s eyes.

“T’Sai.” Jim said.

“Come on, Jim,” Bones’ voice came out of her mouth. “Fucking hell, come on. M’Benga!”

There was a whine from the couch. Jim spun back around and found a tiny, new born baby wrapped in the most elaborate blankets sitting next to Soren. Soren gently rubbed the top of the little babies head while Jim knelt back down in front of the two children. Jim pulled his shirt over his head and held it Soren’s bleeding ear.

“Soren?” Jim asked his son. “Who’s this?”

Soren shrugged and scooted up to put his hand on the side of Jim’s face. There was Golic script on the babies blanket. Soren almost dropped off the couch as he snuggled into Jim. The Orion cuddled Soren close to his chest, still holding his golden uniform shirt to the side of his head.

 _S’chnn_ read the blanket in gold thread with the other word covered by an opal and gold clip. The baby blinked up at Jim with big, chocolate brown eyes. When Jim stroked the baby’s cheek, he could feel the calm radiating off the child.

“He’s nice.” Soren said into Jim’s neck.

“Do you know his name?’ Jim asked Soren, wrapping an arm around him.

“Sa-mek.” Soren told Jim. “He’s my other Sa-mek.”

Jim looked down at the little boy, Soren scratched Jim’s cheek hard and then pulled his little hand away.

“Ow, Soren..” Jim began, only to watch in horror as Soren’s body seemed to melt into Jim’s chest, disappearing as if he had been swallowed by the Orion’s body. “Soren!”

Jim fell backwards, bloody uniform still clasped in his hand. Jim laid on his back for a moment, hands grabbing at his chest in desperation. There was nothing there. Soren was gone.

“Jim.” A voice rang through the room.

“Where is he?” Jim shouted as he clambered to his feet. “Where the fuck is Soren?”

Spock stood in the place of T’Lei, Soren’s mother. He stood with his arms folded behind his back, face a mask beneath his glossy black bangs.

“Jim, Soren is safe.” Spock told Jim as the half-Vulcan approached him. But then Spock stopped and looked down at himself. When he looked up, Jim thought he looked mildly offended. He walked at to Jim, close enough that the half-Orion could feel his breath against his face.

“Is this how you still see me?” Spock asked. Jim looked down at Spock’s black, form fitting, teaching uniform. Jim looked up at Spock’s face. It was more youthful and thinner than it had been when Jim had gone to Spock’s quarters.

“It was the first time I ever saw you.” Jim told Spock. “Certainly made an impression.”

The snarl that came out of Spock’s throat was jarring. Spock’s face morphed into a mask of rage and his hands shot out from his body to grip Jim’s shoulders. Jim tensed, bending his knees and widening his stance while he grabbed both of Spock’s wrists.

“You still see me as an enemy.” Spock all but spat out. “A _rival._ ”

“What do you want me to see you as?” Jim snapped back.

“Ashaya.” Spock whispered and Jim’s world burned.

 


	7. Hagga's Tits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Marhlangon Gaila.” We are free, Gaila  
> “Zup opyoma Hagga .” But Hagga almost won.  
> “Yoglek whyla?” (what is the story-what happened?)  
> “Klytka yoma?” (How did she win?)  
> “Li.” (No.)  
> “Opyomaka.” (She almost won.)
> 
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

It was a beautiful universe, indeed, shifting like waves seen from under the water. He could not have imagined that the universe was made up of a thousand shades of blue. Hagga and The Black Mare did not belong beneath the water but some patches of the ocean above Jim were dark enough to be as black as the empty spaces between the stars. But the parts that whipped and danced around the black spots could be as bright as the streaks that lit up the viewing screen when the Enterprise entered warp drive. It was as if he was moving across a gridded starmap infused over the actual universe. 

 _Perhaps this was how his girl felt?_ Jim wondered. _Perhaps this was how the Enterprise saw the universe?_

Jim leaned closer, trying to find some recognizable cluster, perhaps even some other planet. Here or there he saw The Black Mare form within the flashes of the warp’s bright light. She danced and kicked before being swallowed by the light. But she always reappeared, racing through Hagga’s light to snatch one of her children from the Sun-woman's grasp. Jim opened his mouth to scream for her attention and clawed his hand up through the water, trying to grasp her mane. But the air turned to liquid around his fingers and his mouth was filled with water, flooding his lungs. 

Jim’s head snapped back, hitting some soft river bed with his skull. There were plants wrapping around the side of his head and arms to strap him down. The water above him writhed as the light from warp speed annihilated all of the darkness. The firm, strong, roots left his eyes uncovered so he could see the darkness completely devoured by Hagga’s never-ending maw. _No,_ Jim thought despritally, _No anything but this._

“Motherfucker!” Jim heard Bones’ swearing. “M’Benga grab his legs.”

Jim managed to scream but it came out more like a gurgle. Gaila’s face was upside down, her red hair falling over one of her shoulders, and her hands cradled his head. Within her grey eyes, her dark pupils twisted into the shape of The Black Mare as she danced. 

“Marhlangon Gaila.” Jim told her. “Zup opyoma Hagga.”  _We are free, Gaila. But Hagga almost won._

Gaila recoiled from Jim in horror, letting go of his head and swore in Klingon. Spock all but shoved her aside, to towering over Jim. His face was flushed so green that Jim thought he might have a fever. He sunk his fingers into Jim’s stubbly hair and scratched his nails along Jim’s scalp.

“Are you sick, Spock?” Jim choked out, his voice gravelly and completely wrecked even to his own ears. Spock’s face was never flat, even when he was at his most controlled with his pale, soft skin set into what could be described as a mask his eyes and mouth always gave him away. Jim could look at him for a brief moment when they were doing a Milk Run, or halfway through a Neutral Zone patrol, or shooting at some hostile ship and see exactly what he was thinking. 

“Spock?” Jim gurgled. The half-Vulcan’s eyes were wide and dark and completely terrified. His handsome, soft mouth was twisted down but opened with worry. “Spock? Wa happened?”

“T’Jim, Jim.” Spock informed him. “You have had a seizure.”

“Seizure?!” Bones’ voice rang from the foot of what Jim realized was a Medbay cot. “He had a lot more of a seizure, you green blooded bastard!”

“Jim, what do you remember?” M’Benga asked from Jim’s side. 

“Your primary concern ought to be his _seizure,_ Dr. McCoy.” Spock responded. 

“Can you look at me, Captain?” M’Benga pulled a light pen from his pocket and leaned toward Jim. 

“Really?!” Bones snapped back. “My god man, you really expect me to ignore the fact that he had not one but two of you green blooded maniacs rummaging around his head!”

“Are you attempting to offend me?” Spock said, voice as emotionless and as obviously enraged as Jim had heard it in a long time. “Because your attempts to do so are not only illogical but unproductive…”

“Jim, I need you to look at me.” M’Benga put his hand on the half human’s green, freckled shoulder. Jim flinched away from the contact, curling in on himself. 

“Gentlemen!” Gaila bellowed from her position behind Jim’s head. “That’s enough!”

The room immediately got quiet enough that Jim could hear the beep, beep, beep of some monitor or other. He curled into himself, head and heart pounding. Jim rolled, tangling the blankets around his legs and ripping them out from the end of the bed as he did so. 

“Lieutenant Vro, that was inappropriate.” Jim heard Spock say as he dragged himself up the bed to get closer to Gaila. 

“Your behavior was inappropriate, _Commander.”_ Gaila snapped right back and knelt down in front of Jim.

“May I remind you that you're risking a Disciplinary Charge with your actions, Lieutenant?”

“Oh, can it, hobgoblin.” Bones interjected. 

“I do not believe that there is anything I am able to treat with preservatives at the moment.” Spock responded.  

“Shut up!” Gaila barked. She knelt down by Jim’s head and he reached out a shaking hand toward her. She grabbed it.

“Yoglek whyla?”  Gaila asked. “Klytka yoma?” _What happened?_ _How did she win?”_

“Li.” Jim shook his head. “Opyomaka.” _No. She almost won._

“Jim?” Bones asked from the end of the bed. Jim’s nose picked up that very, very, specific pheromone that indicated Bones was _fucking terrified._ He looked at his friend for the first time. Bones’ hair was a tangled, wet mess of a cowlick that probably still had shampoo in it and was dripping water on his oversized Georgia Tech sweatshirt. 

“How much sleep did you get?” Jim slurred out, still holding Gaila’s hand. “You look worse than when you got stuck pulling two night shifts final’s week? You remember that?”

“God damn it, Jim.” Bones rolled his eyes and while his panic pheromones didn’t immediately lessen, he could smell Bones relax, minutely. “M’Benga?”  

Or maybe he could see it, Jim wasn’t completely sure. 

M’Benga bent over Jim, still holding his unlit light pen, smelling faintly of chocolate. He was still in his full uniform, probably having just finished his last therapy session for the evening or his second to last, depending on how many nocturnal patients he had booked.

“Did you have hot coco?” Jim asked the half Betazoid as he put his hand on Jim’s shoulder.. 

“Yeah, I did.” M’Benga chuckled. “Can you smell the marshmallows and whipped cream, too?”

“Nope, we can’t.” Gaila responded with a wry grin. 

“I fail to see what hot chocolate has to do with the Captain's health.” Spock interjected from his place behind Bones at the end of the bed. Jim had thought that the Vulcan looked handsome in his black pants and wrap when he’d interrupted Spock’s meditation but in Hagga’s harsh lights he looked sickly. 

“Spock?” Jim said. “Why were you in my head?”

Gaila tensed with her grip tightening around Jim’s fingers. 

“Jim,” The redhead asked gently. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Jim wrinkled his nose and shook his head. He tugged her hand closer, wanting to give her a hug or rather to get a hug or get back to his nest or sleep. 

“The Black Stallion was losing.” Jim told her in standard. “I was the ship, warping through the Universe. The Black Stallion saved some of us here and there but then Hagga overwhelmed her.”

“Hagga?” Spock asked, voice irritated. “What hallucination is this, Dr. McCoy?”

“Orion goddess of sunlight and nobility.” Bones responded. 

“The Black Mare is her direct counterpart then?”

“Li.” Gaila snapped back and then returned her attention to Jim. “What about before that? Do you remember anything before that?”

Jim shook his head. 

“Ok,” M’Benga cut into the conversation, still holding his light pen. “I want to run a neuro-scan on him.”

“Think we should compare it to Soren’s?”

“Absolutely.” 

“Soren?!” Jim sat straight up in his bed only to feel his blood rush from his head at the sudden movement. Jim raised his hands to his forehead in pain and felt his world reorientate as he swayed to the side. Jim let out a helpless moan, shutting his eyes in pain. He felt two sets of hands grasp at his left side and another, warmer, pair clasp his right arm. The warm hands were big and rubbed his shoulder and clavicle as Jim was lowered back onto the mattress. 

“Jim, can ya’ open your eyes?” Bones voice came from above him. Jim cracked an eye open but immediately shut it, blinded. The large hands continued to pet him as Spock spoke.

“It is too bright for him, Doctor.”

“Room 13 lights at forty percent.” Bones said. Jim’s eyes fluttered open to see Gaila, M’Benga, Spock and Bones’ faces. M’Benga’s hands continued to rub Jim’s bared shoulder in a soothing pattern. 

“Where’s Soren?” Jim asked again. 

“He’s with Christine, T’Pra and the rest of the Vulcans right now.” M’Benga told him.

“Soren is unharmed.” Spock added from the end of the bed. “Though his emotional controls are severely damaged.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Bones muttered. “The toddler who’s mother and father were just murdered is a fucking mess, who’d’a thought?”

“His meld with Jim not only solidified a parental bond, which is highly inappropriate,” Spock responded. “But also damaged his mental shields resulting in highly inappropriate behavior.”

“He’s not even three yet, hob-goblin, Jesus fucking Christ!” Bones snarled, whipping around to glare at Spock with his hackles up. Jim sniffed the air and looked at Gaila. Bones’ pheromones were changing _fast_. 

“Still, his behavior has been highly irrational even before his meld with Jim and I am concerned that his continued instability will affect the Captain.” Spock continued unperturbed. 

“Have you listened to a single thing I’ve said, you heartless computer?!” Bones all but shrieked. Jim flinched as the sound made his temples pulse in pain. 

“Gentlemen.” M’Benga snapped. “That’s enough.”

“Did you hear him?!” Bones responded. 

“Yes, Dr. McCoy, we certainly did.” M’Benga responded. “But your yelling is causing the Captain physical pain.”

“Perhaps it would be a better use of Dr. McCoy’s time he were to return to his quarters and rest.” Spock advised M’Benga.

“Hagga’s tits.” Gaila muttered from beside Jim. 

“Are you…?!” Bones rounded back on Spock. 

“We need to run the Captain through a neural scan and compare it with Soren’s results.” M’Benga firmly cut off Bones. 

“Indeed.” Spock responded. “Should I alert the Charge Nurse on duty?”

“No.” M’Benga sighed. “You should go back to your quarters and rest before Alpha shift because the Captain’s not getting cleared tonight.”

“Illogical.” Spock responded. “I am his First Officer and as such his health and wellbeing is my personal responsibility.”

 “His health and safety are your responsibility when on an Away Mission.” Gaila correct, clearly pissed. “Not in sickbay.”

Spock opened his mouth to respond but M’Benga cut him off again, crossing his arms across his chest and squaring his shoulders up. Betazoids, like most telepathic species, didn’t secrete a lot of pheromones or, rather, it took either the Phase or someone getting murdered to set them off enough for their scent to stand out from the multitude of pheromones that constantly swamped his nostrils. M’Benga stunk of what Jim could only assume to be stress. 

“Lieutenant Vro’s right, Commander.” M’Benga said and stared down Spock for a moment before the half Vulcan nodded sharply. 

“Lieutenant Vro and I will take our leave,” Spock assured the doctor and turned to the door. He took about three steps before he seemed to realize that Gaila wasn’t following him. 

“Lieutenant?” Spock asked, over his shoulder. 

“I’m Jim’s next of kin.” Gaila informed him in the sweetest voice Jim had ever heard. 

“If he blacks out again we’ll need her.” Bones told Spock. Jim could tell from the look on Spock’s face that Bones was grinning like a Klingon in a whorehouse. 

“Captain,” Spock nodded to Jim. “I will visit you before Alpha shift.”

Jim nodded and smiled, not trusting himself not to cackle if he opened his mouth.  

“Bye Spock.”  Gaila said.

The second the door swished shut behind Spock Jim cackled as loud as he could from the bed. M’Benga waved the unlit pen light in front of Jim’s face. 

“Ehhem.” M’Benga said insistently. Jim continued to cackle.

 

 

 


	8. The Black Mare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hamlan-paradise  
> la'shark-sunlight
> 
> Anybody catch the Star Wars reference in this chapter? Also anybody wanna Beta this ever expanding beast?
> 
> Thank you for the 💯 kudos! You guys are awesome!
> 
> If Star Trek belonged to me that scene Kirk has in "Into Darkness" with the two Caitian women would feature a man instead. And actual nudity.

“How’s Soren?” Jim asked Chapel as she stepped into his room. Strands of her bleached blond hair hung out from beneath her crumpled blue hijab and her mascara was smeared around her eyes. There was a cup of coffee in her hand that was hot enough that it’s scent had swamped the room the second the door open. 

“Why, yes, Captain, I am doing fantastic,” Chapel responded, sarcastically. “Thank you so much for asking!”

“How  _ are  _ you, Dr. Chapel?” Jim responded, rolling his eyes, as he lay on the bed. 

“Oh, I just remembered that fact that I gave up several three figure research positions in order to pull double shifts for Starfleet.” Chapel informed him. “ _ Sir _ .”

“Well, we’re thankful for your sacrifice.” Jim nodded and smiled before flopping his head back against the pillow. “Now, how’s my kid and can I see him?”

“I almost had to use a crowbar to get him out of T’Pra’s arms.” Chapel told him as her accent got heavier while her voice went deathly serious. “He’s sleeping right now, in a locked room.”

“What did T’Pra want from him?” 

“She wanted to meld with him but M’Benga all but told her to go space herself.” 

“Why did she want that?” 

“M’Benga thinks she’s got something she wants to hide.” Chapel told Jim. “I think she’s like an anti-vax mom, well meaning but completely misinformed to the point of idiotic.”

“She thought she could help?”

“Yep.” 

“Wonderful.” 

Chapel dragged one of the two chairs in the room over to Jim’s bed, making the half Orion flinch in pain from the grating sound. She flopped down and sloshed her coffee onto her shirt. Christine looked down at the expanding brown stain, shrugged and took a swig from her cup. 

“How’s Soren doing?” Jim asked, again. “Why is he in a locked room?”

“Soren’s asleep, he has that bear that you gave him and he made me cuddle him for an hour before he let me put him to bed.” Chapel told him.

“He made  _ you  _ cuddle him?”

“Yeah,” She shrugged. “I tried to swap out with one of the psyche nurses but he wasn’t having it.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Chapel took another drink of her coffee and rubbed her right eye. “I need more of this.”

“Did he say anything in particular?” Jim asked, concerned. “Was there anything that stood out to you?”

“He likes that I spoke Vulcan.” Chapel said and shrugged again. “I was the only one on call that could understand him.” She paused and took another drink of her coffee.  “Other than M’Benga but he was with you.”

“Great.” Jim said as he rubbed the ridge of his nose. “Hey could I ask you to translate a word?”

“You speak Vulcan.” Christine stated unimpressed. “Your head isn't that screwed up, I’ve seen the scans.”

“Do you guys just have a group chat to share the weird shit that happens with my body?” Jim asked, already convinced but too tired to be offended.

“We staple your charts to the wall in the breakroom.” She replied completely deadpan.

“Lovely,” Jim grumbled sarcastically. “What happened to patient privilege and medical ethics?”

“Are you even a Federation citizen?” Chapel responded, pitching her voice to be unrealistically high and taking on a pretentious tone. “How can you even be  _ in  _ Starfleet much less a Captain?”

“Is that a British or French accent?” Jim inquired.

“Fuck you, Carol says I’m good at it.” Christine snapped back before completely draining her coffee. “What word didn’t you know?”

“Ashaya.” Jim told her. Chapel’s brilliant blue-green eyes nearly popped out of her sharp cheekbones and her mouth fell open. She raised one of her hands halfway up as if she was about to cover her mouth but dropped it down to grip the arm of her chair. 

“ _ Soren  _ called you that?” 

“No.” Jim responded. “I don’t think so at least.”

“Ok,” Chapel responded as she raised two fingers to press them against her temple. “How, exactly, are you unaware of who called you  _ beloved _ ?”

“ _ Wait, what?”  _ Jim asked and sat straight up. “Ashaya means beloved?”

“Did Soren call you that?” Chapel asked again, brows knit together in suspicion. 

“No.” Jim said, horrified. “I think it was  _ Spock _ .”

Christine sat in silence for a very long minute, with long strands of her bleached blond hair hanging out of her baby blue hijab to hang over her strikingly blue-green eyes and being blown into her mouth by the large puff of air that she blew out of her nose. She looked pissed.  _ Hagga’s tits,  _ Jim didn’t need her pheromones to know she was pissed. Which was good because she wasn’t producing them yet. 

“How far were you in your mind meld induced hallucinations when Spock called you ‘ashaya’?” Chapel asked in a calm voice, eyes soft and concerned while Jim nose picked up the first whiff of her anger in the air. With Christine, the scent she produced when she was angry smelled similar to the ones she produced when she was horny. It was an oddity amongst humans and Jim had made the mistake of telling her. Which was one of the reasons Chapel had left the Enterprise six months into her first mission.  

“Gaila OKed him melding with me.” Jim told her, which did nothing to soften the skin that had tightened with worry around her eyes. He watched as Chapel’s thick black eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Spock spent a couple years as a teenager in Gol getting similar training to what M’Benga has. Uhhh...They studied with mind adapts?”

“Right.” Chapel said slowly. “I always forget you got her listed as next of kin.”

“What?” Jim whined as the door to his room slid open. “I hate paperwork and the Emergency Medical Consent forms were unbearable.”

“Did you really put ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ for every _ thing? _ ” Gaila asked as she walked in accompanied by Nyota. The Orion engineer dragged the unused chair up to Jim’s bed and yawned. Nyota greeted Chapel who nodded, fingers picking at the rim of her cup.  

“Bones wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” Jim grumbled. 

“Of course you did.” Gaila sighed, exasperated, while she gestured for Nyota to take the chair. 

“No it’s fine.” Nyota told her. 

“You’ve been up all night.” Gaila protested even as she threw herself into the chair and slumped backwards, lolling her head over the back of the chair. 

“So have you.” Nyota reminded her fiance. To Jim’s surprise, his elegant Communications Officer lowered herself to the floor and crossed her legs. She flicked an imaginary piece of lint off the knee of one of her left pant leg.

“What are you two doing here?” Jim asked

“Lunch tach meeting.” Nyota responded. “Or did you lose your memory when you hallucinated?”

“No way that happens after Mind Melds.” Jim denied as he shrugged his shoulders.

“It can.” Chapel told while she uncurved the last bit of the top of her coffee cup. 

* * *

Spock looked down at his pad. He had completed 98.78 percent of his paperwork but found himself unable to maintain his level of productivity as Alpha shift reached it’s midway point. Out of the corner of Spock’s eyes he saw the flick of a black ponytail and a flash of red curls as Nyota approached the lift, accompanied by Gaila. They were walking close enough together that he could see the back of their hands brush against each other. Nyota and Gaila’s walked in a rhythm with the step of one immediately following the other. It was as if they were in sync with the smiles on their faces reaching the eyes they only had for the other. Nyota looked unimaginably happy, as she hurried between the closing steel doors which jerked back open in response to her movements. Gaila followed after her. Spock looked back down at his pad to see the request for a temporary materials and manpower to the maintenance department for the reinforcement of septic lines.

Spock closed the document. He had the urge to follow Nyota from the bridge but quickly suppressed it. Jim had been asleep when Spock had gone to see him before Alpha shift. T’Jys had been wrapped in an extra blue, medically issued blanket that made his already light skin even lighter. He could remember when he had seen Jim lying atop Soren with blood gushing from the wound Spock had given him. 

He had stood beside Jim’s bed and fought to not touch him. Spock had touched  _ hamlan,  _ heaven, the human Eden his human grandmother had read to him about the three times they had met and he desired more. Even as he sat atop the cold Captain’s chair on the Enterprise’s bustling bridge, he craved Jim, he craved another brush with T’Jys’ vibrant mind, another brush with the  la’shark  that embodied Jim’s entire being. 

It would be illogical to wait until the completion of the mission for Spock to woo his mate. In fact, Spock believed that it would be impossible to wait. He would have to begin as soon as Jim was returned to full health, especially given the half Orion’s bond with Soren. The boy’s bonding cortex was damaged. As much as Spock had been as a child. He had spent 7.26 years with his mind shielded from his father, relying solely on his connection with his mother to bolster his juvenile mental controls and defenses. 

It had damaged both his and his mother’s health to the point where T’Pau had personally threatened to break his paternal bond with his father. Amanda’s hair had began to go grey when she was 42.1 years of age due to the debacle. Spock could remember both of the women-one tall, human and plainly clothed while the other was small, ornate and Vulcan-verbally eviscerating his father for blocking their bond. Spock half wished he could call upon his mother’s fury to Soren’s aide but she had vanished from beneath his very fingers. 

Spock, very quickly, made a note to speak with M’Benga once the Beta-Alpha crossover was completed aboard the ship. He estimated that that would take another 15.8 minutes, perhaps, 26.6 given Lieutenant Commander Scott had not yet checked in yet. But that left Spock with a conundrum. He was still unable to focus on the maintenance request for additional materials and personnel that were needed to mend the septic pipes after the Bajoran ambassador’s stay 1.6 months ago. 

Spock opened a search bar and typed in  _ the black mare.  _ The pad searched for 0.07 seconds before it returned 573,283,1578 results. The first result was a study on Atoan fertility ceremonies. Spock retyped his search,  _ Orion the black mare _ . The pad searched for 0.095 seconds before returning three hundred results, the first of which was an untranslated. Spock scrolled down until he saw the 21st search result,  _ A Study On The Variation Of Orion Polytheism By Caste _ . 

Spock opened the essay. It was by a Dr. Haigga Heshkihna Reynolds, Ph.D. and she began by informing the reader that monotheism was virtually unknown concept within Orion territory.  _ Logically,  _ Spock thought,  _ this was written for a western Terran audience or perhaps Bajorn’s from the lunar colony. _ Spock read through the introduction as quickly as he could. It described the fluidity of pantheons as the only consistent within religion in Orion territories. 

…... _ as the Orion Syndicate expands it’s criminal activities a greater variety of sentients are forcibly entered into Orion culture as slaves _ _. This has forced an almost constant state of religious flux upon the three lowest castes of society and this flux has made it difficult for anthropologists to accurately catalogue the origins of various mythological figures and folklore but within various escaped peoples _ _ within the United Federation of Planets there is another surprising trend centering around a singular deity. The Black Mare is a zoolatric figure modeled off of the female Varactle, a four legged, cliff dwelling creature of avian descent, native to Knat _ _ , the eighth moon orbiting the Orion homeworld. The Black Mare seems to be worshiped exclusively by the three lowest castes _ _ but her primary adherents are phyana _ _ or hyana _ _ where she has evolved from a representation of darkness during the Middle Orion Expansion during their fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth century _ _ i.e. approximately stardate 1850 through stardate 2050 into a mother goddess after that date. The transition is frequently attributed to the exponential expansion of the Orion Syndicate _ _ at the end of the Middle Expansion but calling it a transition would be inaccurate _ _. At the end of the Middle Expansion The Black Mare gained several attributes that shaped the deity to better resemble the actual creature _ _ as…... _

The com connected to the Captain’s chair beeped loudly. Spock startled, his grip tightening on his pad, at the sound. Spock opened the channel, resting the pad against his lower stomach. 

“Commander?” Lieutenant Scott’s voice came through the comm. 

“Affirmative, Lieutenant.” Spock responded. 

“All good down ‘ere, sir.” The scotsman informed him before Spock heard a loud clang through the com. “Aye! Riley, wha’ the fuck do ye think you’re doin’?”

Spock turned off the com, confident that Montgomery Scott’s latest failure of a prodigy would be receiving his comeuppance that very minute. He returned to his pad, only to find that it’s brief contact with his abdomen had caused him to lose him place within the essay. As Spock went to scroll back up to the paper a sentence caught his eye. 

_ It was not until the beginning of the twentieth century that there are any records _ _ of The Black Mare being specifically worshipped as a goddess of escaped slaves _ _ but there is an increasingly academically accepted theory that The Black Mare took that role within various pantheons but that it was not recorded with Orion academia _ _ due to the fact that there was no interest in the religious beliefs of chattel _ _.  _

It was a logical assumption, Spock believed as he scrolled back up to the second page. The half Vulcan saved the essay for further perusal and rose from his chair. He looked around the bridge attempting to find a senior member of Alpha shift to take the con. 

“Lieutenant Darwin.” Spock addressed the navigator. Even after 2.6 years as her commanding officer, it was unnatural for him to call the older woman Lieutenant instead of Doctor. “You have the Con.”

“What paperwork did you leave me, Sir?” She asked as she walked over. 

“There are several maintenance reports.” Spock informed her, feeling slightly guilty. 

“Don’t they want to do repairs after the Bajorans?” Dr. Darwin asked as she sat down and synced her pad with the con. 

“Indeed.” Spock confirmed. 

“Will you sign off on it if I expand the order to preemptively strengthen other sewage lines?” Dr. Darwin inquired. Spock cocked his head for a moment.

“I am confident that the Captain will take your expertise into consideration when approving a revised work order.” Spock responded. 

“Good.” Dr. Darwin said. 

“Good day, Lieutenant.” Spock took his leave. The Captain did frequently take Darwin’s considerable expertise into consideration. Jim himself had once told Spock that he thought  _ it would be just plain stupid to ignore someone who’s been approving ship designs for longer than I’ve been alive.  _ The statement was a gross exaggeration but the sentiment was accurate. 

Spock entered the lift and pressed the button for Medbay. He waited for the lift doors to close for 3.2 seconds before they began to move. 

“Hold the door!” A voice shouted from the bridge and Spock did so, watching unimpressed as Dr. Marcus hurried into the lift. 

“Commander.” The blonde terran woman nodded to him.

“Doctor.” Spock responded as the lift doors slid close.  

“Are you going to Medbay as well?” 

“Indeed.” 

“Are you going to visit Jyman?”

“Affirmative.”

Dr. Marcus remained blissfully silent for a moment but she fidgeted, tucking her short, naturally platinum blonde hair behind her ears. 

“You know,” Dr. Marcus commented. “I’m surprised that the Tach meeting wasn’t rescheduled.”

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Greg told me we were going to Medbay for it.”

“What?”

“I was under the impression that Jyman was medically relieved from duty at the moment but what do I know?” 

“I repeat, what?” Spock inquired, again. Dr. Marcus looked at him like he was some kind of an annoying fly, a tendency of hers that had caused his initial impression of her to be so poor. Other than the fact she had arrived, intending to replace him as Chief Science Officer. 

The doors to the lift swung open and Spock followed the British woman into MedBay. The Charge Nurse quickly pointed them toward one of the private rooms and Spock dutifully followed her instructions while Marcus stayed a moment to chat. 

When Spock arrived at the indicated location he found it filled by Nyota, Gaila, Lieutenant Commander Hendorff as well as Dr.’s M’Benga, Dehner and Chapel. T’Jys was sitting up in bed, his eyes glazed and face startlingly gaunt. Spock could see the glint of sweat on his forehead. 

“Jim.” Spock said in lieu of a greeting. “Have you recovered from your hallucination?”

“Hello to you too, Spock.” Jim responded. “How’ve you been?”

Spock hurried to T’Jys bedside, shoving past Dehner and M’Benga as he did so. 

“Have you experienced any other complications other than the hallucinations following Soren’s meld?”

“Sorry I’m late everybody!” Dr. Marcus interrupted Spock’s questioning of his intended mate. “So who’s going first?”

“Well,” Gaila noted dryly. “It seems you did tell Spock about the meeting.”

  
  


  
  



	9. Did they have a eunuch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to F. Janeway for being a patient, supportive and wonder beta!

“Have you been experiencing memory loss?” Spock inquired, concerned. He reached his hand out and placed it on Jim’s shoulder even as he turned his eyes to glare at M’Benga. The Betazoid simply sipped his coffee and ignored him.  

 

“Nope.” Jim responded. “No more than usual at least. I forgot to tell you about the meeting last night.”

 

It was illogical that Jim had entered his room to request a chess match with the intent of sharing important information. Other than the fact that the Orion enjoyed his company. Spock cocked his head to look at Jim’s wide, soft smile. Spock was momentarily confused by both the heat radiating off the Orion’s body and the worry that the half Vulcan could feel pulsing the sliver of green skin exposed to his fingers by the medical top. Jim was not hooked up to the computer, clearly having pulled off his monitors, given the fact the the screen above the Orion was dark.  But the pulse  that beneath his fingers was bordering on frantic, not quite fast enough at the point where Spock was concerned that the Captain would shortly be suffering from a panic attack. 

 

“Indeed.” Spock responded as he adjusted his hand on Jim’s shoulder and slotted his thumb into Jim’s shirt in order to caress the freckled, green skin. Jim’s skin had an unusual texture, not quite as wormlike and smooth as an Orion yet substantially less pored and hairy than a human. Spock enjoyed the feeling of it against the pad of his thumb, even if Jim seemed to be running a light fever.   

 

“It’s lucky you ran into me then.” Marcus commented, unnecessarily, nodding her head toward him. Spock arched a singular eyebrow at the physicist, looking away from Jim for 1.3 seconds and subconsciously stopped the motions of his thumb. During those 1.3 seconds Jim’s anxiety spiked drastically. Spock resumed stroking Jim’s Levator Scapulae, increasingly concerned that the Captain’s anxiety level was not dropping. He thought about the benefits of simply climbing into the bed with Jim and pulling him into his lap.   

 

“A logical statement.” Gaila quipped.  

 

“A convenient coincidence.” Nyota snorted, full lips twitching upward into a wry smile that lit her dark eyes aflame. She looked beautiful despite her exhaustion. “Or a logical line of linear thinking.”

 

Jim chuckled, jostling Spock’s thumb off his shoulder for 0.2 seconds. When the half Vulcan touched Jim’s green skin, again, he felt the Orion’s anxiety nearly disappear even as Jim’s muscles minutely relaxed. The majority of Jim’s stress was replaced by an overwhelming contentment that flowed from Jim’s shoulder into Spock’s body, warming him from the pad of his thumb to the tips of his ears.     

 

“A fortunate freak occurrence.” Gaila snapped back at Nyota. Jim turned his head to look up at Spock with another soft smile. This one reached his exquisite eyes. 

 

“They do this a lot.” Jim told him, as if Spock had not already been exposed to Nyota and Gaila’s competitive flirtations. It made Jim happy, Spock realized, Gaila made Jim happy.  He wanted to make Jim happy.   

 

“Indeed.” Spock commented with an arched eyebrow. 

 

“A lot.” Chapel said grumpily, reminding Spock of her presence for the first time. He looked up, mildly startled, only to see her yawn. It stretched her jaws wide enough that he could see her uvula and reminded him of a sleepy sehlat, curled beneath a blanket during a rare twenty degree night in his ancestral house in the now vanished plains outside of ShiKhar.   

 

“A peculiar parallelism.” Nyota responded, cutting back at Gaila and pulling Spock from his musings. 

 

“Wow.” Jim called out. “You really haven’t slept if you’re already reaching that far.” 

 

“Ehem, Captain.” Dehner interrupted as she ran her hair through her short hair. “Can we get on with this?”

 

“Yeah.” Jim assented. “Gaila, what’ve you got?”

 

The Orion woman shook her head and lifted her pad up off her lap. She seemed to be reading through it as she held two fingers up to her mouth. Jim rubbed the tip of his nose, waiting for her to begin and jostling Spock’s hand on his shoulder yet again. Reflexively, Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s shoulder, crumpling the rough cloth of the medical garment around Jim’s clavicle with his fingers. Jim turned his head to look back up at Spock with wide eyes, yet again. 

 

Jim’s eyes never ceased to make his throat close up. Their shape highlighted his features perfectly, drawing the eye to his high cheekbones while minimizing the obscene thickness of his almost pink lips. But on their own, looking up at him from beneath T’Jy’s golden lashes, they were vibrant with life that pulsed beneath them. Spock wanted to cup Jim’s cheeks within his palms and attempt the seemingly impossible task of counting the constantly shifting shades of blue with the Orion’s eyes. It would be as productive as counting the freckles that covered T’Jy’s body. That is to say, highly so. 

 

“Right, yeah, ok.” Lieutenant Vro said, interrupting Spock’s train of thought, playing wth her right eyebrow. “It’s bad. That’s my official summary.”

* * *

Jim flinched at the comment, already knowing from her hand signal that this was going to be a shit fest.  _ Right for trouble, left for safe.  _ Spock’s hand squeezed his shoulder, gently, as if to offer some kind of comfort. Jim allowed himself to appreciate it. To appreciate the firm warmth of Spock’s large palm and long, thin fingers. Wait no, he thought, bad Jyman.

 

“What did you find with the weapons aboard?” Jim asked. 

 

“They’re exactly what they looked like. Romulan and Klingon, bought in bulk.” Gaila responded. “Though everything they got was supposed to be reimbursed.”

 

“Fuck.” Jim groaned, putting a hand over his face and scratching his nails over the patch of skin between his eyebrows. He peeked through his fingers to see Gaila tapping her nose three times.  _ All of it _ , Jim thought, momentarily horrified. The armor Jim had seen packed into those boxes had been Klingon in make and unlike most of shit that filtered into Federation space was actually hardy enough to stand up to a single phaser shot. To have all of the slaver’s cach be that good quality of weapons was a  _ red flashing warning sign.  _

 

“Captain?” Spock’s voice was concerned but Jim ignored him as the half Vulcan’s grip loosened on his shoulder. 

 

“Any idea who’d hired them?” Hendorff asked. 

 

“I’ve got a couple.” Gaila said as she raised her left hand to scratch her forehead with her pointer and ring finger. “Vila, the Khankyni, or the Black Sun.”

 

Yeah, Jim thought, it would have to be Vila or the Black Sun. Fuck, he had to hope it was Vila. 

 

“So their money’s coming from the Lxi region?” Jim asked, propping his chin up on his hand. The Black Sun didn’t really have a Whyll, being an alliance of privateer Captains that had started with a council of twenty-five, and now, twenty odd years later, they had a stranglehold on the majority of the trade routes running from the very edge of the Federation into the heart of the Orion homeland. Or they  _ would _ , if Vila hadn’t managed to successfully inherit- _ murder her six older brothers for _ -the shipping lanes her father and grandfather had built alongside the Klingon Empire. And of course, she’d managed to grab the majority of the few remaining Khankyni routes. 

 

Gaila tapped her pointer and ring finger against her cheekbone. Jim felt his heart drop in his stomach.  _ Hagga’s fat tits _ , Jim shook his head, feeling Spock’s hand on his shoulder.  _ If Gaila thought several Whylls could be working together were they were fucked.  _ They were completely and utterly fucked.  _ Do you have any idea how hard it is to get those tyts to work together? _ Jim wanted to scream.  _ The Whylls could barely be in the same room as each other once every five years without them trying to stab, poison or fuck eachother to death was a miracle.  _ Getting two Whylls with overlapping territories to pool their resources would not only be a miracle but an absolutely devastating one.    

 

“What region, now?” Nyota piped up. Jim felt Spock’s thumb begin to rub over Jim’s shoulder joint, making Jim jump and stiffen beneath his touch. Spock froze which was the opposite of what the half Orion wanted. Jim took a breath and forcibly made himself relax. What he wanted was for Spock to keep rubbing his hand over the muscles, working out the constantly knotted muscles. He wanted Spock to distract him with his mere presence like he used to do, back when they’d first gotten the Enterprise. Jim just wanted to drag Spock down onto the bed and use his warm chest as a pillow. Spock’s hand began to move again, pressing hard enough into his trapezius that it didn’t tickle but not hard enough to do anything other than tease the knotted muscles.  _ Thank you _ , Jim thought.   

 

“It’s the Orion name for the region behind the Cat’s Tail starting where the Klingon neutral zone ends.” Gaila explained. “It’s the more dangerous of the two regions that Orions use to get into the UFP.”

 

“That region is classified as Wild Space.” Spock said from beside Jim, voice skeptical. Jim turned his head to look back up at Spock, wondering just what was wrong with his usually flexible First Officer. Spock looked down at Jim, one Vulcan eyebrow raised above his hard disbelieving eyes even as his thumb stopped it’s circular movements on the half Orion’s shoulder.  

 

“I wasn’t aware the Syndicate followed Federation guidelines.” Jim told at the ambassador’s son. Because that’s what Spock was and The Black Mare abandon him if he forgot it again. 

 

“How has it been sectioned up? And how is it more dangerous for the privateers? Or more volatile overall?” Carol asked, having clearly ignored Spock’s comments, as she normally did. Jim turned his head back around to look at her, noticing the dark bags that hung beneath her eyes. Hagga’s tits, they all needed about ten hours of sleep. 

 

“There’s normally three or four Whylls controlling twenty or so trade routes with anywhere between a dozen and twenty of their own ships and a handful of contracted privateers.” Jim told her. “There’s a power grab going on right now so it’s a bit more unstable than usual.”

 

“Sir,” Hendorff piped up. “From what I’ve read, there’s been a heavy Section 31 presence for the last couple decades on top of more than a couple hushed up Klingon bases. So when you say unstable…”

 

“He means it’s gone from the gangland war zone we get so see in movies to an actual war zone.” Gaila cut Hendorff off.  

 

“The slavers probably got their weapons from the Klingons then.” Nyota reasoned. Spock’s hand tightened on his shoulder.  _ Now he got it. _

 

Gaila’s eyes met Jim’s and she gave him a minute nod, telling him that she thought Nyota was right. Jim bit his tongue, he’d seen enough classified reports to know just how many phasers got funneled through Section 31 bases every month _.  _ He shook his head at Gaila. She raised her eyebrows at him, but let it lie.     __

 

“The ending light years of the Klingon neutral zone are 25.6 hours at warp eight from New Vulcan.” Spock said, voice pitched low with what was unmistakable rage. 

 

“Yep.” Jim responded and bit his tongue, again, to keep from wondering out loud how a Federation Core Species- _ one of the four fucking Founder species _ -was gonna adapt to living in the Outer/Mid-rim. 

 

“But the Orions didn’t head to New Vulcan.” Dehner spoke for the first time. Jim turned his head to look past Spock at her. Jim could see from the corner of his eye that the half Vulcan’s eyes were glued to his face. “Any idea why?”

 

“They didn’t have the resources to hit a post-Warp planet.” Jim told her. 

 

“No.” Carol said, uncrossing her arms from her chest. “Have you even read my report?”

 

“Enlighten me.” Jim snapped back and minutely shook his head. Spock’s hand tightened on Jim’s shoulder, clearly about to protest Carol’s blatant insubordination. Jim minutely shook his head toward the half Vulcan. Jim could handle Carol. 

 

“They had enough photon torpedoes, phaser cannons and armor to suit up two entire Nebula two class ships.” Carol told him, voice still enraged. “They could have stormed a Starbase if they’d wanted too. Bloody hell, they would have had to pass by New Vulcan to intercept the Torupik and the Raf-Glayek, wouldn’t they?”

 

“Was there a ship anywhere near New Vulcan?” Jim asked Spock. “A StarFleet ship. Explorer class or bigger?”

 

“Why would the size of the ship matter?” Chapel muttered into her hand, muffing her words before Spock could even open his mouth.  

 

“Those pirates would have probably won against anything smaller than that.” Cupcake commented. “The ones we’ve got in the brig are some of the nastiest sons of bitches I’ve seen.” Then he looked at Dehner, his girlfriend, eyes bulging for a second. “No offense.”

 

Jim glanced over at Gaila, raising his eyebrows straight up his forehead. She gave her head a minute shake.  _ What did Gaila mean by  _ “no” _?  _ Jim thought. From what he’d seen, Hendorff was completely whipped for the Dehner, but then again Hendorff tended to fall  _ very  _ fast for most of his girlfriends. Maybe Dehner was already fed up?  _ Hagga’s tits,  _ Jim’s head of Security had a bad habit of picking career officers instead of women who would  _ actually _ want to go back to Terra at the end of the mission, get hitched and pop out five kids, like Hendorff did.   

 

“The Bradbury was doing a routine patrol.” Nyota said. “I got their com officer when I tried to connect with the Vulcan High Command. They’re set to leave on 264.764.”

 

“So about ten hours before we arrive?” Jim mentally calculated. Spock’s hand squeezed Jim’s shoulder.

 

“10.47 hours to be accurate, Captain.” Spock corrected. 

 

“No privateer Captian would be stupid enough to go near such a battlehardened Starfleet ship.” Hendorff said. Jim met Gaila’s eyes, knowing just how untrue that statement was. That ship with those weapons could have put the Enterprise out of commision if Spock had decided to take her head on. 

 

Spock’s thumb began to pet his shoulder, barely brushing Jim’s skin. Jim wished Spock would dig his thumb into his shoulder and press down, loosening the muscle in his shoulder. He wanted Spock’s strong hand to spin around and into the back of his shoulder blade. 

 

He could imagine Spock’s hands working up and down his back while the Vulcan panted into his ear. Spock’s hand would dig into the tight muscles of his ribs and lower back to work out the knotted muscles and balls of scar tissue, grinding Vulcan kisses into Jim’s flesh. They would slowly work out the constant tightness that had lingered there since he was sixteen before petting their way down to grip his buttocks.

 

Gaila coughed loudly into her elbow, clearly having picked up the subtle increase in Jim’s pheromones. Jim swore mentally, looking away from her all too knowing eyes, and told himself to get a grip.          

 

“Do we have interesting specs on the weapons, Carol?” Jim cleared his throat and asked. Spock’s thumb began to dig into the muscle of his shoulder, rubbing at the knot beneath it as if he could read Jim’s mind.    

 

“Yeah.” Carol said and began to explain her findings.

* * *

“Can I at least get a cup of coffee?” Jim whined to the Catullan nurse whose name he couldn’t remember. He was bent over the entry desk, head absolutely pounding from his caffeine withdrawal. 

 

“Not according to your chart, Captain.” She spoke as she bobbed her head up and down, the Catullan gesture for fuck no. “Dr. McCoy wants you to be on a liquid diet for the next thirty-seven hours.”

 

“Really? Isn’t coffee a liquid?” Jim grinned at her, propping his elbows onto the counter as he resisted the urge to rest his forehead on the cool metal surface. 

 

“Not that kind, Captain.” She responded. 

 

“Tell me, where might I find the good doctor?” Jim asked, leaning his chin on his hand and playfully batting his eyes at her.

 

Jim watched the ridge of the woman’s nose darken into a hot pink as it was filled with blood, feeling suddenly mortified. He wondered if the ridge was going to swell up as well as he pulled away from the counter and stood up straight. Hagga’s tits, he hadn’t realized his pheromone level was still that high. 

 

“Captain.” A voice rang out from behind him. Jim turned around to see Gaila walking up with a cup of coffee in her hand. 

 

“Oh, Gaila.” Jim almost moaned. “You are a goddess.”

 

She lifted the coffee to her mouth and drained it while Jim watched in horror. 

 

“Why...why would you do that?” He sputtered out, mortified. Gaila finished her coffee with a loud slurp before strutting past Jim and dumping the cup into a trash can. 

 

“You’ve got the love replicated coffee.” Gaila teased Jim. 

 

“From what I’m told, it’s a bit of an addiction amongst you people.” Bones’ said while he walked up to the two Orions, another cup in his hands. He looked better rested than anyone else Jim had seen that day, including the green haired Charge Nurse. 

 

“Aren’t most addictions treated by slowly lowering the doses?” Jim asked, cheerily. 

 

“You’re not an addict, Captain, sir.” Bones responded as he walked right up to Jim and poked him in the chest. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’re just a fucking baby.”

 

“Googoo gaga, Bones.” Jim said then shoved his thumb into his mouth and sucked on it. There was a loud clatter and a yelp behind him. Jim’s head snapped around to see Spock apologizing to a water soaked Chapel.  

 

“What’d that idiot do now?” McCoy grumbled, pushing past Jim to go bother Spock. Or save him from Christine, who might be ready to rip his throat out.  

 

“What’s gotten into him?” Nyota asked as she appeared out of nowhere next to Gaila.  

 

“Not Spock, obviously.” Gaila told her, sarcastically. Jim felt his cheeks heat up at the suggestive comment. He couldn’t really imagine Spock or Bones bottoming, regardless of how pretty an image it would be. 

 

“Jyman.” Gaila snapped at him. Jim looked over at her wrinkled up nose and wild hair. “You need to go back to your room. Tohyka.” _You stink_. 

 

“Hagga’s tits.” Jim swore and did just that, hurrying past Spock, Chapel, and Bones with Gaila a step behind him.  

 

“I fail to see what leaps of logic were required…” The half Vulcan’s eyes followed Jim  even as he bickered with Bones. The large, dark pools seemed to settle under Jim’s skin, opening made Jim blush and squirm as he walked. Gaila put her hand on his back but whether it was to shove him along or give him so kind of comfort, Jim had no idea.

 

When they got into the room, Gaila all but collapsed onto Jim’s bed, flopping onto her back and letting her legs hang off the end of the bed. Nyota’s shoulder clipped Jim’s as she walked past him so she could perch herself next to Gaila’s head. 

 

“Are you going to fall asleep?” Nyota asked her fiance. “Because if you are I’m going to get you admitted.”

 

Gaila just grunted in response, dropping an arm over her eyes. Nyota looked down at her with a worried bend to her eyebrows and an open mouth. Jim heard the door open behind him. 

 

“Captain.” Spock said. It was like Spock’s personal calling card, showcasing the half Vulcan’s ability to pack more emotion into a single word than an entire conversation. “What is the meaning of this rendezvous?”

 

“French?” Nyota teased Spock. “I thought you found it ‘illogical’.”

 

“It is an elegant language.” Spock told her while Jim watched Gaila heave herself into a sitting position.      

 

“Klyt pzyphyana?” Jim asked her.  _Did they have a eunuch?_

 

“Toyilt a?” Gaila responded, rubbing her palms over her face. _Did you see one when you were on the ship?_

 

“What?” Nyota asked. “What about a slave?”

 

“You speak Orion.” Spock stated. “If fact, you were top of Professor Metim and Dr. Harrow-Ahmed’s class.”

 

“Hagga’s tits.” Jim swore. “Ka phylpulugo. Li Captain Ophyakl jupley kikya Likpphyana.” _There’s other ships then. No Captain would be so stupid as to travel this far without one._

 

“They aren’t speaking a Klaxian based language.” Nyota told Spock.  

 

“Waklep Liekurn.” Gaila commented grimly. _Unless they didn’t have a choice._

 

“Liklypomana Vila va JakaHag.” Jim snorted. “Vyt hylokankipa Vila va Hagjaka livekihglipani pykdjyan yipypulgiman. Linoppa kpymak wylam.” _They’re being backed by Vila or the Black Sun. And whoever was funding this expedition had no problem shelling out millions for guns. There’s no way they’d overlook something simple._

 

“Captain, what language group does your dialect belong to?” Spock inquired, coming to stand right next to Jim. He seemed to sway toward Jim and, yeah, the half Orion could recognize just how blown Spock’s pupils were.  

 

“It’s a hybrid.” Jim told his First Officer, offhandedly. 

 

“A slave language?” Nyota inquired, curiosity obviously piqued.  

 

“Yeah.” Gaila told Nyota before switching back to Umanki. “Khankyni Opwyman pzyphyana.” _Khankyni could have forgotten a eunuch._

 

“Yopkanym Khankyni ophakj djyan.” _It would be a miracle if Khankyni can even rub two bronze djyans together_. Jim said, looking over his shoulder to see Spock’s irritated face. 

 

“Ykp poyomaw” Gaila responded. _That makes him desperate_. Jim glanced back at her, catching her eyes and then deliberately back over at Spock. The Vulcan hadn’t taken his eyes off Jim. 

 

“Explain.” Spock demanded. 

 

“Please do.” Nyota commented dryly. “The class would love to hear.” Jim looked back at Gaila who flicked her wrist at him and shrugged, all but telling him to do it. 

 

“They didn’t have a eunuch on board.” Jim told the two non-Orions, feeling his heart start to pound in his chest. 

 

“And?” Nyota asked. 

 

“Orion ships always travel with a eunuch because the crew will need access the telaphage pheromone.” Jim continued, voice cracking and stuttering as he did so. “By castrating a boy before the age of t-t-twelve, you can ensure that they...produce that pheromone rather than kelaphage.”

 

“I fail to understand why that would be necessary.” Spock interjected gently, stepping even closer to Jim as he did so.

 

“Orion hormones are designed for monogamy.” Gaila told the half Vulcan. Jim watched the confusion dance across Spock’s face. 

“When a heterosexual or homosexual Orion couple live together and only have sex with each other they become dependent on each other’s hormones in order to get it up. It’s called codependent sexual monogamy or ylynyak- _life marriage_.” Jim said, hurriedly, forcing the words out of his closed up throat. “Captains and various syndicate bosses don’t want their crews damaging the _cargo_ so they castrate a boy and let the crew have him. And, of course, he’s never…never..” Jim stopped, thinking he was going to be sick all over Spock, who was no standing so close that Jim could feel the heat radiating off the half Vulcan’s body.

“Never going to produce enough kelaphage to cause a ylynyak.” Gaila finished Jim’s sentence for him, much to the half Vulcan’s relief.  

“Fascinating.” Spock simply said, a hand going to rest on Jim’s back in a show of compassion evan as his head twitched minutely to the left, falling into what Jim thought of as his scientist mode. “It seems highly illogical that a species that evolved such traits would maintain a culture that supposedly encourages male dominated polygamy.”

Jim glared at Spock, a sharp spurt of anger suddenly overwhelming his memories. He raised one eyebrow to mimic the Vulcan’s signature pose. It wasn’t as if he’d  _ never heard  _ Spock put his foot in his mouth but at this point his shiny boot was down the Vulcan’s esophagus.

“Spock.” Nyota groaned from her place on the bed.  

“No one asked your opinion on sentient trafficking, Commander Spock.” Jim snapped at the half Vulcan. Spock blanched, eyes widening minutely. 

“I apologize if my word choice was insensitive.” Spock apologized, dipping his head toward Jim as he did so. “But I fail to understand how the lack of a eunuch’s presence is relevant.”

“It means there’s more ships.” Nyota deduced. “Doesn’t it? Or could their eunuch have been killed before we caught them?”

“Commodore’s of fleets can have one eunuch shared between two ships paired together for a mission.” Gaila responded. “It’s common when they want to cut costs.”   


“And that makes the backer more likely to be Khankyni.” Nyota deduced.   

Jim looked at her and then looked back at Gaila, then at Spock and then back to Nyota again. 

“Yeah.” Jim responded before asking Gaila. “Have you been teaching her Nahyat?” 

“It’s hard as fucking fuck.” Nyota swore.

“Evidently,” Spock commented dryly.  

  
  



End file.
